r/BDSMerotica

You wake up to the sound of rope sliding through my hands.

I don’t say a word as I shove the massive ball gag deep into your mouth and buckle it brutally tight behind your head. The second it’s in, you’re already reduced to nothing but breathing and drooling. I stand you up in the middle of the playroom, completely naked, and spread your feet wide, locking them to floor anchors so your legs are forced open and you can’t close them even an inch.

I tape your hands into tight fists, slide on the thick padded mitts, and pull your arms behind your back. Elbows crushed together, wrists and forearms lashed so tightly you can’t move them at all. You’re still standing upright, but completely helpless.

Then I start the real work.

I wrap a thick support rope around your chest and another around a big fistful of your hair, both running up to the heavy ceiling hook. Slowly, deliberately, I lower you. The ropes take all your weight as you’re bent forward, back arched, head pulled back by your hair, tits hanging heavy and free. Once you’re bent over deeply, I pull your arms up into a strict strappado and lock them high behind you. You can’t straighten up. You can’t shift. You’re trapped exactly where I want you.

I slide a thick, curved anal hook deep into your ass and rope it tight to the ceiling hook, pulling your hips up and forcing your legs even straighter. Then I wrap a thigh and waist rope harness around you and anchor it to the ceiling hook. The ceiling hook is on a pulley system which I begin pulling, raising your entire body. Every rope is pulled taut until your dangling legs are tight against the ropes securing them to the floor. Your entire body is now suspended, legs spread and secured, stabilizing your whole body, back arched, head pulled back, completely weightless and completely immobilized.

You are bent over, spread, and suspended with zero slack and zero escape.

I slide the blindfold over your eyes and push earplugs deep in your ears. Total darkness. Total silence. Just the sound of your own breathing and the ropes creaking as you tremble.

I take my time.

I grab your hanging tits hard, attach nipple weights to each one, and watch them swing with every tiny movement you can’t control. Then I step behind you, line up, and slam balls deep into your soaked pussy in one thrust.

You can’t make a sound. You can’t move. You can only clench and take it.

I fuck you rough and deep until I flood you, then pull out slowly and walk away without a word.

You’re left there, bent over, suspended, anal hook tugging, nipple weights swinging, my cum already leaking down your thighs onto the floor. I go make coffee. Watch TV. Handle a few things around the house. You stay exactly like that for nearly an hour, every muscle straining, every second feeling like forever.

When I come back, I pull the anal hook out, slide straight into your ass, and fuck you slow and deep until I fill you again. I push the hook right back in deep, plugging my cum inside you, and rope it tight again.

All day long I keep coming back.

Sometimes I fuck your pussy. Sometimes your ass. Sometimes I pop the gag just long enough to use your throat and make you swallow before strapping it back in. Sometimes I just edge myself on you, play with your weighted tits, and walk away without cumming. Every single time I check the ropes, give you water, and then tighten everything right back down before leaving you there again, dripping, aching, and completely at my mercy.

By the end of the day you are a complete wreck.

Your body is shaking from being kept bent over and strictly suspended for so long. Cum leaks from every hole. Your mind is gone. You’re nothing but my personal free use toy, bent over, suspended, and used whenever I feel like it.

And the hottest part?

I could leave you exactly like this overnight if I wanted to.

You would have no choice but to stay right there, helpless, dripping, and waiting, until I decide you’re done.

Chapter 1: A Game of Locks & Keys + Story Synopsis

Chapter 2: The Sapphire Key (Part 1)

Chapter 3: The Sapphire Key (Part 2)

Chapter 4: The Ruby Key

Chapter 5: The Emerald Key (Part 1)

Chapter 6: The Emerald Key (Part 2)

Chapter 7: The Amethyst Key

---

Three Years Ago

“So you don't think you'll go back? You can still go and just not participate.”

I look up to Andrea as she plops down on the couch next to me. My mind instantly flashes back to the state I saw her in just hours ago. She intended on a foursome experience for my first time at their favorite dungeon, “The Whip”, but due to my timidness it ended up just being a threesome. The image of her getting roughly fucked at both ends is now burned into my mind.

“I just…don't think it's my scene, that's all. Call me old fashioned I guess.”

I lower my head and blush. Why can't I break free like them?

“There's no aspect about it you enjoyed? At all?” Denise asks as she sits in the chair opposite me.

I turn toward her and immediately start picturing her night. She was tied to a bench and edged until she finally broke. The look on her face when she finally finished was one of the most alluring things I've ever seen. I don't think I could do what she did, but I would kill for that ending.

“The bench thing you did seemed interesting, but I still don't think I can do it. I would have to be unbelievably horny in order to be willing to do that.”

The two girls glance at each other, grasping onto the one little sliver of hope I’ve offered. It doesn't matter though, I’ve already made up my mind.

“Don't get your hopes up,” I add, squashing their ambition. “Maybe someday I'll break this shell I comfortably hide behind, and when that day comes, who knows. For now, I'm not going back.”

---

Saturday Night (21st Day Locked)

“Password?” A voice demands through the small opening in the door.

Devon moves forward and responds.

“Helen of Troy.”

The opening shuts and the click clack of locks being switched follows. Devon smiles back at us, pleased with himself that he still had enough connection to get us the updated password for tonight. Never in a million years would I have guessed that, though it is usually a famous historical female.

As the door opens the five of us push through. The first room is flanked by two separate locker rooms for changing and storing phones. We split off into our respective rooms without a word. There is no dress code, anything from full nudity to normal street clothes is allowed. The only requirement is some sort of mask, usually the masquerade type that only covers the top half of your face. We all had ours on well before the front door. That, combined with a strict no phones rule, is how this place preserves anonymity of all patrons. It's the main reason I was actually willing to come last time. This time will be…different.

We emerge back out into the hallway to meet the boys, all now in different outfits. Harrison is mostly dressed in normal clothes while Devon is shirtless with tight shorts. Andrea is wearing a light blue, lacy lingerie one-piece, one that leaves very little to the imagination.

Denise decided to buy something new for the event, something that fits her role well. A black, dominatrix outfit clings to her body, complete with a corset attached to garters. A skimpy black thong attempts to cover her lower half, but also leaves very little to the imagination. The only things remaining from her former outfit are the amethyst key necklace and a stopwatch on her wrist.

I am only wearing one thing, the chastity belt I've been wearing for three weeks. Mere weeks ago, being basically naked in a crowded, public place would send me heading for the hills. Now, it doesn't even faze me. There is nothing in Denise's task that says I need to be naked now, but it's pointless to bother with clothes. Her task is pretty clear on what's about to happen.

Andrea scans the various outfits and breaks the silence.

“Really Harrison? Look how hot us girls look compared to you! I don't know if I can be seen with you.”

Denise and I laugh, while Harrison rolls his eyes. He begrudgingly goes back into the changing room and comes out dressed similarly to Devon.

The bouncer gives us a quick look and then pats the boys down for extra caution. Satisfied, he waves us toward the door before going back to the front.

“Ready sweetie?” Denise softly whispers as we turn. I nod timidly and follow the group into the dungeon club.

“The Whip” hasn't changed much in the years since my only other time here, though I did forget just how big it is. The main bar room has space for several rows of tables and ample standing area beyond. There is even a small dance floor. Off the main room are several hallways, leading to many different smaller rooms. Some are open, for view or participation, while others are for private use only.

Any hope the place would be dead tonight vanishes as I scan the packed-in crowd. Just the site of all these naked and fetish cladded people sets off my already riled up state. The fantasies flood in as I walk past. Unlike most of the fantasies plaguing my mind lately, these ones stand a reasonable chance of occurring, making it all the more impactful. By the time we reach the bar, I am already soaked and barely able to function.

It doesn't take long for Devon to spot someone he knows and run off. Andrea laughs and turns to face the remaining group. I look her almost completely exposed body up and down, imagining tearing that last little bit of cloth off.

“That figures. How about a drink?”

“You guys go ahead. I'm going to see if it's open.” Denise then turns to Harrison. “Want to come? Maybe we check out how many rooms are full while we are at it. This dominatrix costume can serve two purposes tonight.”

Harrison blushes, while making an effort to avoid eye contact with me, and then follows behind her. I watch as they stride away, fantasizing about dominatrix Denise spanking me. Andrea waits until they disappear before turning back to me.

“Think she's doing that on purpose? Rubbing in her control over him?”

I shrug. Andrea orders two drinks and then continues on.

“She's got a little bit of a sadistic side I didn't know about, and I think Harrison loves it, even if he won't admit it out loud.”

“They make a good couple then.”

My reply comes out more snarky than I meant. She turns back to me, with slight surprise.

“You're better off. Trust me.”

I've never told Andrea my feelings towards Harrison, but I suspected she's picked up on it.

“Don't worry, I'm well past it now.” While I believe this to be true, memories of that last facial have been on consistent replay since it happened.

“I bet. Don't worry in a few hours you can finally let that new boy toy of your’s fuck weeks of backed up horniness out of you.”

She laughs and turns to grab our drinks from the bartender.

“If I ever make it out of here!” I say as I glance around at the various mostly naked people around me. “I'm already fantasizing about half the people here. I may just post up and let everyone have a turn.”

Andrea pulls back aghast.

“Well look at you, turning into a little slut right before my eyes. Gotta admit, I feel like a proud mama bear. Maybe I'll even join you in that!”

We both cackle but stop as Devon walks briskly back up to me.

“Soooooo, David is here.”

“David? As in, David from-”

“Yes from the story I told you.”

“Hold on!” Andrea interjects. “Story? What story? I thought I knew all your stories?”

“Later!” He turns back to me. “I'm gonna go…reconnect. So I'm gonna miss your thing. Good luck. I'll see you on the other side.”

He hugs me and then dashes away before either of us can respond. Truthfully, I'm happy he's going to miss what's about to happen. I would be okay if they all missed it.

Before Andrea can pry any info out of me, like I know she wants to, the other two return from their investigation.

“It's open!” Denise announces in a giddy flourish. “Shall we?”

My heart sinks for a moment. I knew this was coming, but now it's real. Andrea grabs my shoulder and pulls me in for a hug before the situation overwhelms me.

“You've got this. I'll even help out.”

She releases me and grabs her drink.

“Harrison! I think we should leave these two to their task. Come on! Let's see what's changed in this place.”

Harrison opens his mouth to protest but appears to withdraw as Andrea glares at him. Denise doesn't seem to care, her focus is completely my way.

Andrea winks at me and grabs Harrison as they walk away. I owe her for that one.

“Okay then!” Denise holds out her hand. “Let's go!”

I look down at her hand and take a deep breath. This is it. With whatever courage I can summon, I throw back my drink and let her lead me away.

I feel everyone's eyes upon me as we meander through. I'm sure it's nothing new here, a woman in a dominatrix costume pulling a naked woman in chastity. There are much more taboo dynamics on display here. Still, with what's about to happen, I can't help but linger on every set of eyes my way.

We turn into the second of the open rooms down the hallway. I stop and nervously take in the room. It's exactly as I remember it.

Along the walls of the small room are a few full height cabinets, currently locked, and in the middle sits the bench. The same bench I saw Denise strapped to years ago. I close my eyes for a second and picture that text from Denise.

One hour on the bench.

That was all it said but the message was clear. I knew exactly what she wanted.

The bench looked more like a picnic table, but padded. The front part had two spots for my knees, which would also conveniently keep me spread open. I would then bend over and rest my torso on the higher middle part while my arms rest along the two lower spots toward the back. Restraint straps attached to all four lower spots would keep me locked in. For a full hour, I would be completely helpless, tied up, and spread open for anyone and everyone.

As I continue to stare down at the bench, almost shaking in anxiety, Denise waves over to an attendant. The attendant quickly walks over to unlock the cabinet while explaining the rules. Every item in the cabinet has been scrubbed clean. Once taken out, it can't be put back in, but instead needs to be taken to the return window to be cleaned again. Last time here I examined all the toys in these cabinets, and was pleasantly surprised at how clean and well kept everything is. From the looks of it, that remains true.

After we both agree to the instructions, the attendant flings open the doors, revealing the litany of vibrators, whips, crops, masks, and so much more inside. Denise lights up, like a kid in a candy shop, and then turns to me.

“Ready?”

I don't bother responding, but instead take a deep breath and slowly move toward the bench. As I climb on I feel the restraints begin to tighten on each limb, first the legs and then the arms. She finishes and stands above me, admiring her work. Though uncomfortable, I manage to crank my neck up to see my dominatrix one last time.

She reaches into the cup of her corset and pulls out the small key from my surrender box. I strain my head further but can't follow her as she disappears out of sight. I feel her tug at the belt for a second and then suddenly it falls free, leaving me completely naked in public with my three week teased pussy on display.

Denise then grabs a black cloth out of the cabinet and heads back to me. A moment later and all I can see is darkness.

“Do you remember the safeword?” She whispers down.

I nod.

“The moment you feel uncomfortable, let me know. I'm not going to leave your side at all. No one comes up unless I say so.”

“Thanks.”

“Time for your grand finale. Enjoy it, my depraved slut.”

I let a whimper slip as she walks away.

“Okay! She's open for business! Here are the rules. Edging only, she doesn't get to cum. If I say stop, you stop. Toys or fingers with gloves only. Pussy only.”

She sounds like a carnival worker hyping up a game. Three weeks ago I never would have imagined her like this.

“You first.”

I feel the slight reverberations of footsteps approaching.

No going back now.

---

It starts with a finger, swirling around my lips and teasing inside of me. The first touch I've felt on my pussy in weeks almost sends me over in seconds. Denise expertly reads my body and stops the contact after only a brief moment, letting me come back down before allowing them to continue. This cycle continues over and over, as it will for the next hour.

After the first finger comes a vibrator, then a dildo, a crop, another vibrator, and so on. Every once in a while there is a lull, a brief respite, but it never lasts long enough. Voices of both men and women accompany each new tormentor as well. Some offer praising comments, calling me a good girl and talking about how well I'm doing. Others go the other direction and degrade me, talking about my soaked pussy and calling me a pathetic slut. Occasionally there is a spank or a whip. One person even goes as far as pulling my hair. Despite the uniqueness of each tease, there is one underlying truth.

I'm just a plaything to them right now.

Over and over, they bring me to the edge and then leave me longing. I lose any concept of how much time has passed as my mind melts. Each previous task brought me to a whole new level of desperation than I previously thought possible, but this…this is like shattering the ceiling into a new realm.

As the hour passes my body becomes more and more distraught. The shaking doesn't stop. Every pore on my body profusely sweats. The begging turns to babbling as I lose the ability to form coherent thoughts. My pussy swells and pulses, now with a slight pain from the relentless teasing. The fire inside is scorching, coursing through every inch of me.

A woman, someone with a raspy, dry voice, finishes up her turn as she delivers one final swipe with her fingers. I brace myself for the next person, but instead hear Denise’s voice for the first time in a while.

“You’ve attracted quite a crowd. I wish you could see yourself,” she taunts down to me. The surge of embarrassment I've been staving off overtakes me as I picture the scene.

I’m sure she's not lying. Everyone in the club must have seen me by now. All those eyes watching. How many people have seen me? How many now know about the drooling, quivering slut on the bench, pussy on display for all to play with?

“Tap out any time you want,” Denise whispers down to me. I feel her arm rest on my back as her fingers swipe across my clit and then stop. She's making her final move. “Just say the word and I will let that sweet release finally come. You can be fucked straight silly right here.”

“N-n-no.” Even I’m not convinced by my pathetic response, but in my current state that's all I can muster. My brain has completely failed, I probably couldn't state my name if someone asked. She brushes across my pussy again and I curse out loudly.

“What if it's me? There's a strap on right there. I could do it. I know you want me too.”

Her fingers swirl around my clit and then stop again. I cry out, pushed to the limit. The many weeks of torture have me crumbling. I think back to being spread on bed as Denise filmed, Jonah talking dirty to me as he filmed, him cumming on my face that first time, Denise and Harrison fucking and my ensuing facial, my ass getting fingered, all the porn, all the fantasies playing non stop. I can't do it, I can't hold on any more! I need to be free. I need to cum!

“What about Harrison? Think of how good it would feel to have his cock slide into the slick little pussy of yours right now.” I feel her breath on my ear now, her face practically touching mine, as her fingers pick up the pace. Every muscle strains, my body ready to finally explode.

“Ahhh!” I yell in frustration. I can't think of a response but one small coherent thought bleeds through the static that is my mind for a split second. I hold onto it, clinging to it like a lifeline. Harrison isn't the one I want inside me after all this, there's someone else now, someone I can't wait to celebrate my freedom with. I just need to hold on-

“Times up.”

Denise drops the sadistic tone as she withdraws her fingers.

“Task completed.”

I cry out again but this time, it's not in despair.

It's over.

I did it.

---

Denise leads me through the hallway toward the private rooms. My mind is useless at this point, no thoughts or any emotions other than unrelenting horniness. With each step my shaky legs struggle as my body twitches. It's a good thing Denise put the belt back on before untying me. If not, I would have immediately grabbed a vibrator and finished the job.

She walks up to a door in the back and pushes through. Inside is a small dungeon room, complete with various bdsm restraint devices scattered across it. In the middle of the room are the other three, clapping as we approach.

“So….?” Andrea asks sheepishly, “How was it?”

I wish I could lie. I wish I could say I hated this experience and never want to do it again. I wish I felt embarrassed or mortified at what just happened to me. That just isn't the case though.

“It was the most intense experience of my life…and I fucking loved it.”

Andrea beams and bear hugs me, almost dropping me to the floor. Devon and Harrison manage to grab us before we collapse. I cackle as she releases the hug and stumbles back.

“Not too mad at me then?” For the first time all day, Denise seems timid and worrisome.

I reach out and hug her.

“No, I'm not. I had a safe word. I wanted it. You know that sadistic nature of yours drives me crazy. I wanted to cave to your offer at the end more than anything.”

She hugs back and whispers into my ear.

“I'm sure you will be returning the favor soon enough anyway.”

As we pull away from each other I look across the group.

“I assume you all participated in that?”

Each of them nervously glances back and forth. I roll my eyes and ease their anxiousness.

“Dont worry, I figured you would. How did I do?”

“Incredible!” Devon shouted. “The hottest thing I've ever seen here. You're a legend now.”

“Seriously Evelyn, that was unreal. I mean fuck, I’m ready to jump on that bench next.” Andrea mockingly fans herself.

“Yeah…it was…insane.” Harrison struggles to find the words but the blushing and tent in his shorts say enough.

“Well!” Denise interjects and looks my way, “I think it's time for the moment you've been waiting for.”

She pulls the necklace over her head and hands the key to me. For a moment I just stare at it, still in disbelief at this whole experience. Now, it's done, leaving me a forever changed person.

“Now go.”

I look up, face contorting in confusion, as Denise brushes the tangled hair away out of my face.

“You know where you want to be right now. We will all Uber home. The box is in the car and you have the final key. Go celebrate your freedom, you've definitely earned it.”

I look toward the others who all nod and smile. They are right. While I could just unlock myself and come back in, that's not what I want.

There's only one person I want to christen my newfound freedom and I can't wait another second.

---

One chapter left!

The forest was supposed to be safe at dusk.

I’d only stepped off the trail for a minute phone in my hand, stupidly chasing a rare wildflower photo when the world exploded. A low growl rolled through the trees behind me, deep enough to vibrate in my chest. I spun around and there he was: the Alpha.

Towering. Naked. Every inch of him carved like a predator who’d never known mercy. Golden eyes glowed in the fading light. His cock was already half hard, thick and heavy, the knot at the base already starting to swell. Behind him, shadows moved his pack, at least eight of them, circling silently through the underbrush like wolves on the hunt.

I ran.

Branches whipped my face. My heart hammered so hard I could taste iron. But he was faster. Much faster. The ground shook with his footfalls and then his massive hand clamped around my ankle, yanking me off my feet. I hit the dirt hard, screaming, kicking, clawing at the earth as he dragged me back by one leg like I weighed nothing.

“Little rabbit,” he snarled, voice more beast than man. “You smell like fear… and like you’re already wet for me.”

He flipped me onto my back and pinned me down with his body. One huge paw hand ripped my shorts and panties down in a single brutal tug. I tried to shove him off, nails raking down his chest, but he just laughed, low and feral, and forced my thighs apart with his knees.

Two thick fingers shoved into my pussy without warning. I cried out, back arching, because fuck he was right. I was soaked. He pumped them once, twice, then pulled them free and licked them clean while staring straight into my eyes.

“Mine,” he growled.

He mounted me right there on the forest floor. No condom. No mercy. His cock speared into me in one savage thrust, stretching me open so wide I screamed. The pack howled in approval, closer now, watching. He fucked me like an animal deep, punishing strokes that slammed against my cervix with every snap of his hips. My shirt was torn open, tits bouncing, nipples scraped raw by his chest hair.

“You’re going to take my knot,” he snarled against my ear, teeth grazing my neck. “You’re going to take every drop of my seed until your belly swells with my pups.”

I was sobbing, begging half “no” and half “please” when I felt it. The knot. Swelling. Stretching. Locking us together as he drove it past my entrance with a brutal shove. I came instantly, pussy clamping down around the massive bulge, milking him while he roared and flooded me. Hot, thick ropes of cum pumped straight into my womb, pulse after pulse, so much it leaked out around the knot and ran down my ass.

He didn’t pull out. Couldn’t. We were tied. He rolled us so I was on top, still impaled, and held me there while his pack closed in.

“Alpha’s claimed her,” one of them growled, already stroking his own cock. “Now the pack breeds her.”

They took turns while the knot kept me locked on their leader. One after another they used my mouth fucking my throat until I gagged and drooled, cum dripping from my chin. Hands mauled my tits, pinched my nipples, slapped my ass. When the Alpha’s knot finally shrank enough to pop free with a wet gush of seed, they flipped me onto all fours like a bitch in heat.

The next wolf mounted me immediately, knotting me just as brutally while the Alpha held my hair and made me look up at him. “Good girl,” he murmured, thumb stroking my tear streaked cheek. “Take every cock. Every knot. We’re not stopping until you’re dripping from all three holes and your womb is overflowing.”

I lost count after the fourth knot.

They bred me in the dirt for hours feral, growling, biting my shoulders and thighs to mark me as pack property. Every time one knot deflated, another took its place. Cum poured out of me in thick rivers every time they pulled free, only to be replaced by more. My belly felt full, bloated with their seed. I stopped fighting somewhere around the sixth orgasm and started pushing back, whimpering for the next knot like the broken little breeding bitch they’d turned me into.

By the time the moon was high, I was a wrecked, cum soaked mess. Collapsed on my stomach in a puddle of their combined spend, ass up, pussy still twitching and leaking. The Alpha crouched beside me, stroking my hair almost tenderly while his pack panted around us.

He leaned down, licked a stripe up my neck, and whispered, “You’re ours now, little rabbit. Our mate. Our breeder. And tomorrow night… we hunt you again.”

I shivered, already aching for it.

Because deep down I knew the truth:

I’d never really been trying to get away.

1. Master likes rubbing his dick all over my face to remind me of my place as a cock slut. He reminds me this is all I’m good for and my face is his to use as he please. He also tells me my face is made to be cum on and makes me beg for him to cum on my face. The whole time he’s rubbing his dick on my face and humiliating me with words, I am to keep begging him to cum on my face or in my mouth. If I stop begging or don’t look like I want it I’m slapped hard.

2. He asks me to kneel and keep my mouth open so my hole is available for him to use. He randomly shoves his dick in and out as he pleases while making crude remarks like ‘I only use this hole because it’s available and free’. This goes on for hours. He uses my mouth to cock warm, chokes me, fucks it hard and fast. The rule is that mouth is to stay open the whole time. The session obviously ends with him cumming in my mouth as according to him a slave should regularly swallow cum to stay useful.

The lights were blinding.

I stood naked on the polished wooden block, wrists cuffed high behind my back, thick leather collar locked around my throat with a heavy chain running down between my breasts to a spreader bar that forced my legs obscenely wide. A thick bit gag stretched my mouth open, drool already spilling down my chin and onto my tits. The auctioneer’s voice boomed through the speakers as the crowd of maybe fifty men and women shifted in their seats, eyes hungry.

“Lot twenty-three. Prime fuckmeat. Twenty-four years old, fully trained in obedience, deepthroat, anal, and total objectification. She’s been edged for three weeks straight—no orgasms, no mercy. Starting bid is ten thousand.”

A low murmur rippled through the room. I could feel every stare crawling over my shaved pussy, the way my nipples were already tight and aching from the cold air and the constant humiliation. My handler stepped forward with the long crop and tapped the inside of my thigh hard enough to make me jolt.

“Display,” he ordered.

I arched my back as best I could, pushing my tits out, spreading my knees even wider until the chain between my ankles rattled. The crop cracked across my ass twice—sharp, stinging reminders. I moaned around the gag, shame and heat flooding my face.

Bidding started fast.

Hands went up. Numbers climbed. Then the real fun began.

“Inspection is open,” the auctioneer announced.

They came in waves.

A tall man in a suit stepped up first. He didn’t ask. He simply grabbed my jaw, tilted my head back, and shoved two thick fingers into my mouth, fucking it slowly while I gagged and drooled. “Good throat,” he muttered, then moved behind me. I felt his palm slap my soaked cunt once, twice, then three fingers plunged in without warning. I cried out, hips bucking involuntarily. He laughed and wiped his fingers on my thigh before walking away.

Next came a woman in a tight black dress. She pinched both my nipples until I whimpered, then leaned in and whispered, “I’m going to buy you just so I can watch you cry while my husband ruins your ass.” She twisted harder, smiling when fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

More hands. More strangers. Someone shoved a thick plug into my ass while another tested how many fingers I could take in my pussy at once. A group of three men circled me, stroking their cocks openly while they discussed whether I’d look better with my tits bound purple or with a ring gag so they could all use my face at the same time. Every touch, every comment, every casual slap reminded me I wasn’t a person anymore—just merchandise.

The bidding climbed past fifty thousand.

I was shaking. My thighs were slick with my own desperate wetness. The plug in my ass made every shift of my weight push it deeper. I couldn’t stop the little broken sounds escaping around the gag.

Then the gavel came down.

“Sold! To the gentlemen in the front row—Lot twenty-three is now the property of the Blackthorn Collective.”

Four of them stood up at once. All tall, all dressed in expensive black, all wearing the same cold, predatory smile. The leader—broad-shouldered, dark hair, scar across one eyebrow—stepped onto the block like he already owned the world.

He unclipped my wrists only long enough to yank them in front of me and cuff them again, then hooked the chain to a ring on the floor so I was forced to bend forward, ass high, face inches from the polished wood.

“Time to break her in for her new owners,” he said calmly.

The crowd cheered.

They didn’t wait to get me backstage. Right there on the auction block, in front of everyone still watching, they started.

The first cock pushed into my dripping pussy without a single word. I screamed around the gag as he buried himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Another hand fisted my hair, yanking my head up so the leader could look me in the eyes while his friend fucked me like a cheap toy.

“You’re going to learn what it means to be owned by all of us,” he said quietly. “Every hole. Every day. Until the only thing left in that pretty head is ‘yes, Sir.’”

The man behind me came fast and hard, flooding me, then stepped aside so the next could take his place. They rotated like that—pussy, mouth, ass—passing me around while the crowd filmed and shouted suggestions. Someone replaced the plug with a much thicker cock, stretching my ass until I sobbed. Another forced his dick down my throat until my nose pressed against his stomach and my vision went fuzzy.

I lost count of how many times they used me.

At some point the gag came out. I was babbling—please, no, yes, more, stop, don’t stop—words slurring together as orgasms they’d denied me for weeks crashed through me without permission. Every time I came they laughed and fucked me harder.

By the time they finally unchained me, I couldn’t stand. I collapsed to my knees on the block, cum leaking down my thighs, tears and drool covering my face, body marked with handprints and welts.

The leader crouched in front of me, lifted my chin with one finger, and smiled.

“Say it.”

My voice was hoarse, wrecked, barely a whisper.

“I’m… I’m broken.”

He stroked my cheek almost gently.

“Good girl. Welcome to your new life, fucktoy.”

The crowd roared as they dragged me off the block by my collar, still naked, still dripping, headed for whatever came next.

And the worst part?

I was already aching for it.

I’m a straight-A junior at a big state university. By day I’m the girl in the front row of lecture hall B, notes perfectly organized, ponytail swinging, answering every question like the overachiever I pretend to be.

By night… I’m his toy.

It started three months ago, right after midterms. I was stressed, horny, and stupidly scrolling through a discreet kink app on my phone at 2 a.m. in my dorm. One message from him calm, direct, no emojis and something in me clicked. “You don’t need to think tonight. Just answer honestly: when was the last time you felt completely owned?”

I answered. Then I kept answering. For two weeks it was just texts. Rules. Tasks.
“Send me a photo of your panties after your 9 a.m. class. No touching yourself until I say.”
“Edge for fifteen minutes in the library bathroom, then send me the video of how wet you are.”

I told myself it was just fun. Just fantasy.

Then he told me to meet him.

He’s thirty-one, works in the city, and has this quiet, terrifying calm that makes my knees weak before he even touches me. The first night he didn’t fuck me. He made me strip in his living room, kneel on the hardwood, and repeat after him:

“I am not a smart college girl tonight. I am an obedient toy. My only purpose is to please you.”

I was shaking. My pussy was dripping down my thighs onto his floor and he just watched me, sipping his drink, completely in control.

That was the beginning of my training.

Every weekend I drive to his apartment after my last Friday class. The second I step inside the door I have to strip, fold my clothes neatly, and crawl to him on all fours. He puts my collar on soft black leather with a little silver ring and suddenly the girl who aced organic chemistry disappears. I become nothing but wet, eager, desperate holes for him to use and train.

He’s patient. Cruelly patient.

He spent an entire evening teaching me exactly how he wants me to suck his cock: slow, deep, eyes locked on his, no hands, throat relaxed like the good little toy I’m learning to be. Every time I gagged he’d pull back, stroke my cheek, and say, “Breathe through your nose, baby. Toys don’t panic. Toys take it.”

I came untouched that night just from the praise in his voice.

He’s trained my orgasms now. I don’t get to come unless he says the word. Last weekend he tied me spread-eagle on his bed, put the Hitachi on low against my clit, and left me there while he watched a soccer game. Every time I got close I had to beg out loud:

“Please, Sir, your toy needs to come. Please let your stupid little college slut come.”

He made me wait until the final whistle. I was sobbing, hips jerking, drooling around the gag he’d slipped between my teeth. When he finally said “Come,” I screamed so loud the neighbors probably heard.

He’s teaching me to hold positions. To wait. To thank him after every slap, every denied orgasm, every time he uses my throat like a fleshlight and leaves me gasping on the floor.

Last night was the moment it really hit me.

I was on my knees in front of his couch, wrists cuffed behind me, his cock resting heavy on my tongue while he scrolled through his phone. Not even using me just keeping me there, warm and wet and perfectly still. My mind was completely blank. No assignments. No exams. No pressure. Just the taste of him and the quiet certainty that I existed for his pleasure.

He looked down, brushed my hair back, and murmured, “Look at you. My perfect little toy. You used to be such a stressed-out good girl… now you’re so much happier like this, aren’t you?”

I couldn’t speak with my mouth full, so I just nodded frantically, tears of pure relief spilling down my cheeks.

He smiled like he already knew the answer.

I don’t know how long this secret will last. I graduate in a year and a half. But right now, every single weekend, I’m exactly what he’s trained me to be:

His obedient toy.

And I’ve never felt more free.

I'm standing by the side of the bed. You're kneeling near the edge of the mattress, your feet, ankles, and a few inches of your legs overhanging. Your back is angled downwards, so that your shoulders and head are touching the bed, while your ass is the highest point.

I can hear how nervous you are from how rapid your breathing is. Every few breaths you take an extra deep inhale, clearly trying to get a hold of yourself.

I rest my left hand on your hip, and you flinch.

"Just, be gentle, okay?" you say, your voice muffled slightly by the pillow. "Remember this is my first time. Don't just try to shove it all in."

I bend down and kiss you just where your spine meets the top of your ass cheeks. I drag my fingernails slowly up the back of your right thigh. I let you feel the soft roughness of my beard tickling your skin.

"Shhhhh," I reply. "Trust me, baby. I want you to enjoy this."

I straighten back up and take a moment to just enjoy how fucking hot you look in the warm light of our bedroom. How sexy you are in that position; face down, ass up.

And what an ass.

Two rounded, pale, perfect semi-globes of the finest butt, full enough that even stretched in your current position there's enough flesh to curve outward from your body and overhang your legs.

I slap one cheek, my hand coming in from the side, hard enough that my palm feels instant heat, and watch the slight ripples that pass through you.

You gasp, and then giggle.

"Don't be a dick," you admonish me playfully.

"Ready?" I ask.

You take an extra deep breath, then let it out slowly.

"Okay. Do it."

I can hear the determination in your voice and it makes me smile. Your tone is that of someone who's about to get a tooth extraction, or have a bandaid ripped off.

"Relax, Mona. We're not at that part yet. I told you I'd go slowly, and I will."

We've talked our way up to this moment; me probably overly eager, and you probably overly cautious. You told me it was something you wanted to try -something you'd always wanted to try- but that you were scared because your friends had told you some horror stories of other people who had tried, and the things that had gone wrong. You even got to the point of asking a previous partner if he wanted to explore it with you, but he reacted badly, called it disgusting, made you feel ashamed.

I know that you might not like it, and I'm ready to stop whenever you tell me to, but I want you to at least have tried.

We've already fucked tonight. We've both cum. We're both relaxed and post-orgasm glowing. It feels like the perfect time.

I kneel down behind you, my face an inch away from your tight little asshole, and for a few seconds I just look at you, at it. From this angle both your pussy and your asshole are visible to me. Two perfect little fuckholes, each with their own individual appeal. Your pussy is always slightly open, never truly closed. I obviously can't see inside you, but if I had a torch and shone it there I would be able to look inside your body, even if it was just an inch or so.

Your asshole is very different. I know there's a hole there, but even here, even with my face and inch away from it, at best it looks like nothing more than an indent. I could shine the brightest torch there and not be able to see inside you at all. It is clamped tightly closed. I rub my dick in anticipation at feeling that serene tightness gripping and holding my shaft.

"What are you doing?" you ask, and I realise I've been staring for longer than I thought.

"Sorry baby," I mutter, sure that you can feel my breath there, on the most sensitive area of your skin.

I lick my lips to coat them with saliva, put my hands on your ass, one on each cheek with my thumbs a couple of inches either side of your hole, and gently stretch you, just a little, just enough to open that rosebud a fraction.

I place my tongue flat against your asshole, and lick you; a soft, wet, slow lick.

You murmur in pleasure. I've eaten your ass lots of times before, usually with you sitting on my face and me doing what you call Big Licks, from your asshole round to your pussy and ending on your clit, repeating the motion over and over while your grind and rub against my mouth.

I lick again, spreading my tongue so that it fills the little V of your ass crack. I keep it relaxed, dragging it over your hole, getting you as wet as I can. I continue like that, licking your asshole like it's the best ice cream in the world, gradually introducing the tip of my tongue a little bit more each time, pressing it into the dimple of your hole, increasing the pressure, stiffening it and pushing against you. It's amazing how hard the tip of the human tongue can get. When relaxed it is soft and velvety, but if you tense the muscle it becomes rigid, and strong, almost like a tiny little penis.

After a few minutes of gradually increasing pressure my open mouth is enveloping your hole and rather than licking you up and down I'm now flicking and pressing my tongue against you, exploring your opening more and more, pushing it into you until I'm tongue-fucking your asshole and my saliva and your pussy juices are soaking my beard.

You're so tight, and I'm not getting very much inside you at all, but I can feel you pushing against me each time I prod with my tongue. I can hear you moaning and breathing. And then I feel a vibration and I know that you're rubbing your clit while I eat your asshole.

"No," I say, and reach under you and firmly remove your hand from your pussy, pressing it into the bed and holding it there for a few seconds to underline my instruction.

"Why?" you complain, your voice breathy and ragged.

"Not yet." I say simply. "Soon, but not yet."

I stand up and, without warning, push my dick into your pussy. I sink it all the way in, filling you so quickly and so completely that you gasp in surprise. You try to rock back against me, but I place my hand on your lower back and stop you. I just want to fill you. I want you to feel my size and shape inside you, but I'm not fucking you.

I look down and your asshole is glistening wet.

I lick my thumb and place the fleshy part of it upside down on your hole, the rest of my fingers splayed out at the top of your ass. I rub it in little circles, over and around your asshole.

You begin to push back against me and this time I don't stop you, but I keep my arm rigid, bend my thumb against your hole, so that each time you push back the tip of my thumb slips inside you.

"Oh fuck," you grunt, feeling your asshole being properly invaded for the first time ever.

You need to want this. I don't want to force you to take it. I need you to enjoy the feeling. This is one of the points where I'll find out if you do. If you stop rocking back against my thumb I'll know you don't enjoy the sensation of having your most private little hole being stretched even just a tiny bit. I'll know that being fucked in the ass probably isn't going to be for you.

But, you don't stop.

In fact, you throw back harder, almost violently, until with each backwards thrust my thumb is disappearing into your asshole right up to the first joint.

I begin to flex it inside you, bending and straightening it in time with your rhythm, pushing against the soft lining of your asshole, feeling how gloriously fucking tight you are. I turn my hand slightly so that as my thumb bends inside you it's now pulling to the side. I'm deliberately stretching you, deliberately pulling on that opening, making it wider, flexing it, getting you ready for what's coming next.

And again I feel that steady thrumming vibration -this time on my cock- that gives away the fact you're playing with you clit again.

With my free hand a slap your ass hard, downwards, the high pitched sound ringing in the room.

You squeal.

"Leave your clit alone," I growl, pushing my entire thumb into your asshole to underline my point.

The vibration stops.

I hold my thumb in your asshole. I can feel the shape of my cock pressing against it through the membrane that separates your pussy from your ass. I flex my cock and enjoy being able to feel the movement from inside your body.

You've stopped moving now too. Little tremors are passing through your body.

I reach over and take the bottle of lube from where it's sitting on the table beside the bed.

I slowly pull my thumb out of you, watch as your asshole closes around it, not gaping even the tiniest bit.

"Can't you just fuck me?" you ask over your shoulder, the frustration obvious in you voice. "We can try anal another night. Tonight just fuck my pussy and do that thing you were doing with your thumb."

"Be quiet, Mona. It's happening, and you're going to love it."

My cock is still buried in your pussy, and I give you a couple of quick, hard thrusts before pulling it out. It's coated in your juices, and I love the thought of using your own cum as lube to fuck your ass, but for your first time that's not going to be enough.

I pop the lid off the bottle and squeeze a generous amount into your ass crack, just above your hole. As a wise person once said - when it comes to lube, there's no such thing as too much.

"It's cold!" you complain.

"Shhhhhh - I'll heat it up in a minute."

I watch the lube dribble down you. It pools and gathers and pauses at your entrance.

I press my cock against it and feel you tense through your asshole. I slide my shaft between your ass cheeks, getting it covered in slick, slippery lube. I squeeze a little bit more onto my dick, rubbing it in with my hand before putting the bottle back.

"Slowly," you remind me. "Please, baby."

I tilt my hips and push, and my cock begins to split and spread your asshole.

You tense and I feel you blocking me, stopping my progress.

"Just relax," I say, and maintain the same amount of pressure.

Another quarter inch disappears inside.

You're controlling your breathing, deep but rapid breaths, like I've seen women on TV who were giving birth do.

"I don't know if I can," you say. "I want to, but I don't think I can."

You don't use the word though. You don't say the word that we agreed meant I would stop instantly.

Same pressure.

Pushing.

My hands on your hips, holding you in place as my thick cock spreads your tight -so, so tight- little asshole.

It feels incredible. Even though I've got barely an inch in, it already feels amazing. There's a difference between fucking a pussy and fucking an ass. A palpable and definite difference. When you're fucking a pussy, most of the pressure comes from the entrance. It's like a ring of tightness that squeezes your dick and travels up and down the shaft as you push in and out. It absolutely feels good for the part of your dick that's actually inside her. It's warm and soft and wet and sexy and wonderful, inside the pussy isn't exactly tight. If you can, imagine a woman touching the tip of her index finger and thumb together so that they make a circle, and then imagine her wanking your dick with that. For this analogy, that's what fucking a pussy feels like.

Fucking an ass on the other hand, is like being wanked off by both hands.

An asshole grips and holds the entire length of your cock. It squeezes and presses in on all sides. It is tight no matter how deep you get. It isn't as wet, isn't as quite as soft, but when it comes to tightness, nothing beats fucking an asshole.

I push a little bit more, and the head of my dick goes right into your ass.

"That's the worst part over," I tell you. "Tell me how it feels."

You don't answer straight away. I like that you're giving it some thought, making sense of the sensations before you put them into words. I've always loved that about you.

"It's... it's okay," you say. "But hold it there just now. I need to relax a bit. I need to get used to it. I feel like I'm stretched wide open. It's not bad, but it is... different."

"Okay baby. Just take your time. Tell me when."

All I want to do is drive my entire length deep into you and fuck that asshole hard and fast. The pressure on my dick is almost unbearably devine. I need to fight the urge. I love you. I don't want to hurt you. But fuck. But fuck I want to. It is literally coded into my genes to fuck my cock into you. Every fibre of the animal inside me wants to hold you down and fuck you, ignoring your protests, ignoring your screams and just fucking *taking* you, and I need to fight hard to stop myself from doing just that. I need to slow my own breathing and focus on just staying still, with that one single inch of my dick buried in you, your quivering, trembling hole making it so tempting to just push and push and push and push and...

But I don't. Of course I don't. I love you.

"Try a bit more."

I push, but slowly, with consideration and love, and suddenly there's no resistance anymore. You've relaxed enough, and I've used enough lube, that my cock begins to just slide right into you.

I look down and watch it happen. I watch inch after inch of my thick cock disappear into that impossibly tiny hole. For the very first time in your life, you're being fucked in the ass, and I'm the one lucky enough to be doing it.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Fuuuuuck. It feels so big. Like I shouldn't be able to take it, but I can."

"You're doing so good, baby."

The inside of your ass feels so fucking good. There's the total pressure I mentioned before, but it is also soft. It's like the best hug a penis can be given.

"How much is in me?" you ask, and I'm so turned on by the excitement in your voice.

"About half. Want me to stop there?"

"No." you say quickly. "No don't stop. Fuck. Keep going. I think I can take it all. Does it feel good?"

"It feels so good baby. So fucking good."

Suddenly you reach between your legs and grope for my dick, gripping the half of it that isn't inside you. You run your finger around me just where we join, feeling how stretched and open your asshole is.

I don't go fast. I just keep pushing forwards, letting your ass open up and take me in.

"I'm so open! I'm so fucking wide open! Fuck, I like it. I actually like it. Fuck."

I love it when you swear during sex. I've noticed over our time together that the amount of bad language you use is directly proportional to the amount of pleasure you're getting.

"You're so tight."

"Am I? Does it feel good for you?"

"It's amazing. So good."

"Am I a dirty girl?" you ask. "Am I dirty little slut for taking it up the ass?"

I'm fully inside you now, and you're rocking back onto me, fucking my dick very gently with your asshole.

"Such a dirty girl," I say, starting to very slowly fuck you back. "A nasty little whore."

"Oh fuck yes! Getting fucked up the ass like a whore. Dirty, nasty little whore. Fuck your whore in the asshole baby. Fuck this filthy little slut."

I increase the speed just a little, making sure not to pull fully out of you at the end of each stroke. I love that you're loving it, but I don't want it to hurt. I don't want a good experience to turn into a bad one. I need to keep control of myself. But you feel so good. You feel so *fucking* good. I can't help myself. On the next stroke I drive it hard into you, slamming my hips against your ass.

"Ow!" you cry. "Not so hard baby. Easy."

I want to ignore you. Oh fuck how I want to ignore you.

I'm gentle with the next push, and the next, focusing on maintaining a pace that you can handle, but that also feels good for me. You're so perfectly tight, and what we're doing is so fucking basic, that I know I'm not going to last long anyway.

"Rub your clit," I tell you. "Rub your clit while you're taking a dick in your ass."

You do instantly. You're rubbing it so hard and fast that I can hear it.

"Fuck baby," you groan. "I can feel it in my pussy. I can feel your dick in my pussy. How? How can I feel it in my pussy?"

"I'm in your asshole," I remind you.

"I know you are, but fuck, fuck, I can feel you in my pussy. I can't explain. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Fuck. I'm going to cum. Fuck baby I'm going to cum."

And you do.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucckkkk!!!!!"

You cum hard with me fucking your little asshole, pushing yourself back onto me as you do, forcing as much of me up your ass as you possibly can. I can feel your entire body shuddering and shaking all around my cock, and as you cum your ass tightens and squeezes my dick harder than it's ever been squeezed before, the entire length of it gripped so fucking hard that I know I won't be able to resist it.

I cum.

I cum right up your ass.

I shoot my second load of the night deep into your asshole while you're still riding out your own orgasm.

I can feel pulses from inside your body running along my cock.

The physical sensation of it is incredible, but there's also a mental element that adds much to the experience.

Before now I've only ever came in your pussy or in your mouth (or over your face, your tits, your stomach, your legs) but never that third hole. I've never owned all of you. I've never *claimed* all of your holes. It might sound stupid, but up until that moment you were never fully mine.

And then you were.

All of you was mine.

As I pump and pump my cum into your asshole, and your orgasm passes through you in spasms so powerful that I can feel them in my balls, I know and you know that now you belong to me. We had discussed it. It was a large part of the reason why you were willing to try anal sex with me.

"I want you to have cum in *all* of my holes," you'd said. "I want to know that all of me is yours."

"Mine," I grunt as I fuck the last of my cum into you. "Mine. Fucking *mine*. My pussy, my mouth, *my* fucking asshole."

"Yours baby," you gasp. "All yours. All yours. All yours."

And then we fall forwards onto the bed, me on your back, my cock still held so tightly in your asshole.

We lie there, sweaty and happy and spent, for a few minutes. I can feel my cock begin to soften, but the position we're in means it stays in place, plugging your asshole, keeping my cum inside you.

"Fuck," you say eventually. "I mean... just... fuuuuck."

I kiss the back of your neck. Bite it gently.

"You're mine now." I say. "All of you is mine."

Finally decided to give one of my favorite old scenes the re-write it deserves. Different from my usual, longer build up, but hope someone enjoys it

The glow of your phone is the only thing that illuminates the room as you doomscroll for "just" another five minutes. You know you should put the phone down. To just go to sleep, it's alright late, well, technically early. Then something caught your attention. A posting, interesting enough to make you stop. It was a simple premise, an offer. Light cleaning, some dusting, mopping. Complete with the catch, always a catch. Some vague language that hinted to the real intentions behind it. High pay as long as the outfit is “Light”, “Cute” and “Thin”. Yep, another creep

“That's enough for tonight”

You tell yourself after briefly considering the idea of it. Realizing you’ve hit that point where you're so tired you no longer think rationally. Laughing at the fact that you momentarily considered it. Rolling over and staring at the ceiling, you mulled it over a little more, thinking of your bank account, now in the double digits, rent is due soon… maybe it was worth hearing out. Rolling back over and grabbing the phone, typing out a quick message, deleting it, laughing about the absurdity of the idea. Coming back, typing another and finally throwing the phone away. Pulling the covers up over your head. You need to stop. It’s not like you.

But in the morning, you found yourself still pulled to it. The idea was intriguing, a little provocative in a way that felt good, like an adventure you desperately needed, not a possibly dangerous mistake. It is just cleaning after all. Hell, even the outfit requirement, you have bikinis that show more skin than he was looking for. But the pay, it’s almost a full day's pay for an hour or two. Against your usually better judgment, driven by a lack of funds and stealing yourself, you send a quick message as you hold your breath.

“Hey, still looking?”

What convinced you was the way he responds to your obvious nervousness. Swaying you by suggesting you send his address to a friend, set up a time for them to call you, check in and to send the cavalry if you don’t answer. Encouraging you, he said all the right things to make you feel safe.

You had discussed wearing a small crop top and a skirt, or booty shorts, both fine with you and he gave no preference to either. Not exactly sure why, but you found a top that was a little thinner, enough to leave something for the imagination, but so little that it was fun. Paired with your favorite skirt. Just long enough that if bending over to sweep or mop, there's enough left to the imagination.

But as you were getting ready, for your own personal amusement you thought it may be fun to leave the panties at home, at the time the idea was exciting, exhilarating and so out of character for you that you couldn't help getting a little carried away. Now that you are here, sitting in the driveway, the excitement has turned to panic. The rush of driving here, the idea of cleaning this house with the slim chance of exposing yourself to this stranger is gone now. Pulling up into the driveway, seeing him standing there. It was real now, not some fun game. Leaving you with hands that wouldn't stop shaking as you fumble with the door and finally manage to get yourself out. Taking a moment and several deep breaths, you compose yourself.

You had prepared for a predator. Some creep, gross and disheveled, with crumbs in his beard. An old man that needed some young eye candy to get his thrill. Completely unprepared by this handsome man, maybe early 30’s at most. Polite with kind bright eyes and a disarming half wave. He was not the creepy voyeur you pictured. Just a normal guy with disposable income and an interesting idea. A miscalculation that throws you a little more off balance and a little more on guard, for some reason it would be easier if he was creepy looking, it would at least match what you prepared for.

As you step closer, he greets you with a charming smile. His hair was long, he stood not too tall at about 5 '11, maybe 5' 10. Broad shoulders, he seemed to be in great shape. You even see a flash of a tattoo peeking out from under his shirt as he walks you through the house. Leading you to wonder what it was and how many more there may be.

The nerves are gone now, you feel at ease until he shows you to the closet where he keeps his supplies. No immediate red flags, no bad vibes. You catch him taking a quick glimpse at your chest. The top was thin, sheer and his house was a little cold. Enough that it stiffened your nipples, it would have been all but impossible for him not to notice. The light translucence was a bad idea. You had forgotten how you were dressed until you caught him looking. Laughing, as you remember what you had agreed to, the whole point was to be noticed. Of course he was going to stare, he was paying to stare.

As if attempting not to embarrass you, or maybe he is just embarrassed that you caught him looking, he sums up the tour right there, quickly leaving after pointing to the supplies again, advising he will let you get to work, and to just yell if you need anything. For a quick moment, you notice the flush in his face, maybe he was the one embarrassed. The thought of making this grown man blush was cute, endearing. He wasn’t bad on the eyes and that shyness really looked good on him

Getting started, you find yourself in a rhythm. Every once in a while, you can feel his eyes over you, staring, wanting, burning a hole through your clothes with his eyes when he thinks you are not looking. The excitement grows in you with every glance. Emboldening yourself into going out of the way to give a little show whenever he was within view. Enjoying the power you felt was surprising. You usually aren't one to move like this. Shocking yourself with this unknown strength to walk around a stranger's house, panty-less, breasts on full display, arching your back, moving to puff them out, to show yourself off. But god, does it feel good.

The attention was addictive. Every glance was driving this little fantasy in your head. Swearing he must see you dripping down your own thigh. He would have to be blind not to. You could probably see the glistening shine of your leg from space. You're getting bolder, and with it, a hot flash is hitting your body. For a moment, you wonder if you could sneak off to the washroom, the excitement of getting yourself off in some strangers home, it felt so dirty. You already took a chance today, maybe it won't hurt to take another. Ultimately, you decide against it, leaving you torn between delaying the work so you can keep putting on this show or running straight home and using this memory, this feeling to bring yourself to what you knew would be a life changing orgasm.

Deciding on the latter, you pick up the pace, no longer caring about this job, focused only on the desperate urging between your legs that demands to be satisfied immediately. Otherwise, you may break down right here and now with broom in hand. Overcome by your own ferocious sex drive, that growing itch in your pussy, was screaming to be scratched. You put everything back to where he showed you it belonged. Pausing to take a quick step back, double checking the cash you got up front was still in your purse pocket. You are not sure what's come over you, but you need to get home and work it out.

A long sigh escapes you, both sad its over and loving the excitement this little adventure has brought you. You're ready to leave, to run out the door, praying you can hold it together, you can attack yourself, tease and relieve the aching throb of your clit on the drive home and finish the job when you collapse in bed. The idea sends another immediate shudder, so wild you can feel it through the hairs on your skin. Your clit isn’t just throbbing, it's begun spreading the feeling throughout you, each pulse sending a wave through you, landing in your stomach so hard you're barely able to stand.

So lost in your thoughts you didn't notice he had been walking over to you, jumping as you finally sensed his presence. The small hairs on the back of your neck shooting straight up, snapping you out of it. Startled, turning towards him, about to let him know it's all done, to thank him for the gig and ask when you're needed next. The look on his face tells you something is off. He keeps coming closer, his pace not slowing, as if instead of trying to stop in front of you, he’s trying to pick up the maximum amount of momentum as he reaches you. Standing half a foot away, his hands reach forward, grabbing you and pinning you up against the wall, his hands locking around your forearms, lifting you off the ground as if you were nothing as he pushes you flat against it with a heavy thud.

The size difference was terrifying, you had noticed when you first walked up to him, but it was more apparent now than ever. Usually something you would have subconsciously clocked, seeing that size and naturally keeping a reasonable distance, no matter how kind he was. The most basic method of self preservation. It failed today, the idea of disposable cash and his disarming charm, coupled with that fantasy you had been playing out in your mind had dropped your guard. Unable to speak, small and helpless as he held you firm. Staring at you with the eyes of a man possessed.

“You really thought I hadn’t noticed, didn’t you?”

That voice, its a heavy breathy rasp, each syllable hammers away at the sinking feeling in your chest as it crawls into your ear.

“All that extra effort today… the way you lingered in every doorway, that whoreish arch in your back. Watching you laying it on so thick. I saw you watching, making sure I looked whenever you reached for a shelf. I saw every single moment of it, enjoyed every second of it. More than you can possibly imagine”

Shifting his weight, as he speaks through heavy breathing, pressing his knee into your thigh. He can feel you trembling. Smiling as he enjoys the sight of it.

“You put on one hell of a show for me, didn’t you? Like you were trying to see if I would break. Well congrats, you won. But I think there's still so much for me to see, isn't there?”

Finally in control of yourself again, the shock wears off, replaced by a small amount of adrenaline, but it's pointless. His hands wrap completely around your tiny little arms and he's detained you as if you're nothing. Almost laughing as he reaches for your top and tears it in one quick motion. Your eyes widening in disbelief.

“Get the fuck off me, Ill fucking end you, asshole. You’ll regret this you piece of shit”

Screaming at the top of your lungs, making it clear to him your not to be fucked with. At least, that's what you screamed in your head. Those are the words you wanted to say, knew you say. Should declare at the top of your lungs. Instead, barely rolling off your tongue, a meek little statement.

“Please don’t”

The way it comes out doesn’t even convince yourself. To say the show didn't mean this, that clearly it wasn’t what you meant, it’s not really true.. Instead, your own voice has said what you had been feeling in the depth of your stomach. You had played out this fantasy the entire time, building it up to a point your body, that impulse has taken over. Forcing you to imply what you now needed. Silencing your mind, it's the pulsing, throbbing of your clit that's speaking through you now.

“Ill make you a deal”

Those words dangling some small shred of hope for the last morsel of logical thought being slowly silenced by your libido. Sliding you further up against the wall. Pushing and pining your hands above your head, crushing your chest against it with his own. His knee forces open your legs, spreading them just enough to make you understand that you do not have the body strength to fight him. Forcefully, he brings your hands together, grabbing them both by the wrist with a single large hand, it hurts, and trying to struggle just makes him clamp down on them tighter.

His free hand is grazing down the sides of your face. Making you flinch. The touch, that touch in this moment was more than you can take. Not the disgust you knew you should be feeling. Instead it was a shock of electricity, sending that pulsing sensation deeper, the throbbing, picking up intensity. He’s still moving, slowly, towards the skin at the sides of your breasts, reminding you that he has already exposed you from the neck down. So exposed, his touch is an electric attack against your common sense. His hand continues down to your skirt, pausing for a minute to circle your inner thigh. You're struggling against yourself, forgetting to breathe. Wanting to fight him off while all the while frustrated, hating that his hand, that electric hand, stopped.

“Prove to me you don’t want this. That you don’t want me, right now. Ill stop, ill double your cash and you’ll never see me again”

The way he says it, almost as if he’s laughing, both of you understand you have proven the excitement already. The proof of it had slowly snaked its way to your knees by this point, there hasn’t been a moment from the second you stepped foot into his home it hasn’t been a clear and visible readiness.

The sudden dizzying realization that you were in control sent a shiver down your spine. Unable to react, frozen in place. Not by fear, but the reaction that forced you still. Fight or flight kicked in and you had chosen to freeze even in the midst of pleasure. You can feel the intention in his smile as you do nothing. Still frozen as you feel the jerk of your skirt, thrown up above the waist as he hiked it up in one smooth, fluid motion. Why? Why does that simple act drive you insane?

Slowly, he starts again, heads up your thigh, starting by lightly circling your knee. The feeling, a light tickle makes them quake. Your chest is becoming flush, an agonizing want, making it tight. Continuing upwards with a steady slow pace, his fingers shooting a nonstop tingle up your leg, each slow inch, insatiable. Your breath is ragged, you feel hot. Like you're burning up from the inside out. The intensity, your impatience. It's making you sweat. Your eyes are locked on him, trying to plead him to get to the point. Watching as he tests the waters, waiting for a rebuke that never comes. Heading towards his prize, the one place your mind says you don't want him heading. Knowing that there's no coming back if he reaches. Your body, trembling at the touch, heavily disagreeing with that assessment. Knowing when he reaches you’ll be putty in his hands.

Within seconds, he feels the soaked thighs. The drying proof from mere moments ago that had you ready to run off home. Combined with this flooding rush of want he’s dragging out of you now. It’s this moment of truth and realization that had you both lock your eyes onto each other, bringing forth a gushing rush. Triggered by that cold steely gaze of his. Sharp blue eyes washed over you, seeing through you, bathing you in the first body shaking wave of pleasure. Light electric pins that spread across your skin, making their way down your neck, lighting your nipples on fire and firming your breast, the whole of you now hyper aware of his presence. The feeling hammers away, diving quickly towards the flooding aching of your pussy and coming to a rest in your womb. You no longer want this. You need it, a primal urge to give in to a dominating presence standing before you. It’s becoming a hormonal desperation.

Laughing, with a grin that reaches all the way up to his eyes, that same cute smile you had noticed before coupled with that same flush in his own face, perfectly matching yours. The space between you was static, burning with intensity thick enough to cut, ready to burst in a moment of passion you both held your breath for. Knowing it was coming.

“Look at that”

It's just a murmur, knowing he has you melting already. His bright blue eyes filled with a hunger you have never seen. It’s stirring something in you. Something you're not familiar with, but know that it can only be trouble.

“You can’t even hide it can you? Right there, I know you feel it on your skin. Proof of how much you want this. You're dripping, literally dripping for me. So why still pretend? Why are you still acting like you're not begging for it? Why don’t i see just how much your willing to give”

The betrayal was instant, absolute and mortifying. The way he called you out was a white flag of surrender waived by your common sense. You had never been so turned on, never felt yourself so wet , so acutely aware of your own arousal that you feel every drop in a way you never have before. Almost hypnotized in a daze as he pulled his hand back, showing you his fingers, soaked and glistening.

You couldn't find the words to lie, to dispute or argue. He was right. You didn't want him to stop. You wanted to be taken, to be ruined by him, to be punished for the tease.. Wrecked for the sin of baiting this handsome stranger. That's the background thought that had been running through your mind the entire time. The whole reason you had begun to feel yourself becoming bolder, why you had started putting on that show to begin with. Just not expecting it to truly become real.

“No… we don’t need to pretend”

Again, you want to get a hold of yourself. This mousey little voice was not yours, but the power he somehow held over you made it impossible to speak. His words stole the very air from your lungs. Your mouth was dry from nervousness and the way he still, after all this time kept you pinned and suspended was weakening not just your knees, but had eroded your resolve completely.

“Take me”

The words left your mouth against your will. Your body says what your mind had refused to acknowledge. Less than a whisper, he leans closer, you can feel the warmth of his breath. Smell his cologne, earthy, hints of forest. A manly smell that’s not helping you regain your senses. Instead the combination of his show of force combined with that musky smell of man drives you deeper, further into a desperate urge for him.

“Speak up slut”

He says it so directly. Demanding that you speak clearer, to make it known what you want. The words hit you like a blunt object cementing the fact that you now need him, not want, but completely need him. Leaning forward, noses almost touching. Lips so close to each other that you can feel the buzzing intensity between them. Your mouth is watering, licking your lips, staring at his. Thick, full and inviting, you finally find your voice. Matching the directness, swinging back with a bluntness of your own, defiant now. Your eyes showing him a hunger matching his own.

“I said, stop talking and fucking take me”

The confidence of which you said it surprised even yourself. The whole word froze for just a moment, that record scratch in the movies where everything pauses and the main character explains to those “Who may be wondering how i got myself in this mess”.

The words hung there, in the air between them for a second that was really an agonizing lifetime. Then, shattered. He lunged forward, their mouths crashing together in a fiery, wet kiss that felt less like a loving embrace and more like a declaration of war between superpowers. Their tongues swirling and entangled, desperate with urgency. Trying to reach into each other as if they would both drown if they couldn't get further. His free hand, still slick and dripping with the saturation of your pussy that he had just mocked you with, clamped firmly over your face to tilt back her head and pull her deeper. The scent and taste of you on his skin was a mental overload. A reminder of how quickly and thoroughly he had exposed and melted you. No longer able to help yourself, hips grinding against the knee still lodged between your legs. A wild animalistic, reckless abandon against the hard, firm muscles of his thigh, Needing the friction to soothe the throbbing that was screaming and demanding satisfaction. Finding a rhythm you cry as he tore his mouth from yours. Gasping for air and growling a low threatening moan that vibrated and sent shivers back through your skin. Dropping your wrists in favour of your hips. He seizes you, spinning you around with such effortless power before slamming you, face and chest against the cold wall.

The searing heat, the sweat in his palms, how he was kneading the soft flesh of your hips. You're beyond aching now, arching towards him, trying to wiggle your exposed little ass to the growing erection just as eager to plunge into you as you were readily available to accept it. Feeling his hand moved away, threading through your hair. Grasping, anchoring itself at the base of your skull as he gave a sharp yank, your neck thrown backwards. Locking you in place, ass firmly pressed against the growing, barely constrained bulge in his pants as he bent you, almost unnaturally as he brought your ear to his mouth.

“This is what you’ve done to me, what you’ve made me do”

He took you then, raw, like a man unhinged, driven to desire caused by the flaunting you had dangled in front of him for fun. It wasn’t gentle, there was no hesitation. Only the impact of his body, hard, toned muscle as it slammed into you, feeling the impact sending ripples through your skin. The hand on your waist digging in deeper, leaving marks that would last for days, five finger-tip shaped bruises. Each individual thrust, deep, intentional. The angle makes it feel like it would burst through your pelvis. Swearing you would be able to see it protruding through your skin given the size of him. Reaching back, you are not attempting to struggle, not trying to claw and scratch at him in a desperate attempt to drive him off. You clamped down, digging your nails into his wrists above and below. Locking yourself into place as you rocked back against him. Telling him more, faster, harder without words.

“Oh my fucking god, fuck me. Fuck me. Break me. Fuck that pussy you prick. Take me. ”

Mere moments ago you could barely speak. Fighting so hard to deny yourself the truth of what you had been seeking, you're surprised at the way you scream now. The words leaving your mouth are almost barbaric as you scream, squeal, and demand more from him. You're lost in this now. You no longer sound like yourself. Vulgar statements launched at him, feeling the effect of your words is driving you deeper into madness.

“God, your so fucking tight".

You can hear the strain in his voice. He's pleading for you, the sound of this man struggling against the pleasure. Its too much.

"I can’t hold it. Tell me you want it”

The intensity of it all was an assault to your senses. Hearing the wet, heavy sounds the two of you create. How he has returned every screaming statement with one of his own. That declaration. The grunt before he tells you he’s going to cum. Your arousal dripping, slapping against his thighs and being met in return with the force of a man attempting to bury himself, trying to meet your challenge to break you. Attacking with an ever increasing, relentless pace. Your vision blurs in and out, turning a flash of white as the edges fade to black. The stimulation, the overwhelming sensations headed towards the inevitable peak.

The combination of how quickly he had grabbed you, the reaction of your body, ready and wanting. The hair pull, rough and unwieldy, that bruising steady grip on your waist and that power that came from the movements of a man possessed with desire. Those disgusting words you exchange, that make you wild with each that leaves your lips, with every syllable returning to your ears. It was all too much, pushing you over the edge. Breaking with a ragged scream that tore itself free of your throat. Buckling and spasming under his weight, completely, utterly whisked away to another dimension, as he let go of your scalp and you fell forward, bracing against the wall.

The shift in position allows him to dig deeper, forcibly making you weaker. Your legs are still quivering from the orgasm that had lashed out at you, berating you so fast you couldn’t prepare for it. Seeing you slumped, slowly falling without the strength to brace yourself. He grabbed at your wrists, using them for leverage as he pulled you back, deeper, rolling his hips upwards on every forward thrust, maximizing the depth of penetration. Head rolling back, your eyes soon following as he stole another earth tilting orgasm from your body. Electric, like someone plugged a thousand volts right into your stomach after you ran the boston marathon. Never had it been taken like this. Never had someone claimed you in such a manner that your body reacted in applause, thunderous, glorious applause by way of standing, orgasmic ovation.

After the tremors from that last destructive orgasm, you had felt yourself clamping down, clenching around him as your muscles seemingly attempted to break him. A desperate need to hold him in, to keep him right where he was to not ruin the tempo that brought you that dizzying orgasm. The harder you clamped, the more the throbbing sent shivers. The pulse of your own heartbeat so intense in your clit was a small wave through you, the impact of his strokes a larger one. Stuck in between this onslaught. Drooling, barely able to stand on your own feet. If he let go you know you would now crumple to the floor beneath him.

Now, he was grunting. Inhuman noises as his face buried into the back of your neck. Each sound rattling against your spine as he bit down into your shoulder. Feeling the power behind you. Understanding the unhinged passion you had awakened in him. Driving harder now, his pelvis crashing against your ass as his arms continued to pull you back to him. The impact was bruising as he pulled back his hips, gripping your wrists tighter for one last debilitating stroke. Burying himself to the absolute limits, you feel him bottoming out, crushing your cervix as he drives into you with a force that turns the world a bright flash of white.

"Im cumming, fuck im cumming"

The flood came then, before you could react, before you could fully process what he was saying. An intense sensation that makes you stagger, barely able to contain yourself, as your legs become limp. Thick, pulsing ropes of devastating heat, branding your insides. Filling you, claiming you. Dumping the pent up tension as if aiming for a direct shot to your womb. God, that feeling, unlike any other, steals the last bit that you have left to give as you struggle and wiggle to force him even deeper, needing to catch every drop and unwilling to let go as you grip around him, sealing him within. Hoping he buries just a little deeper, not caring if he tears through your cervix, praying that he does, feeling twitch after twitch of his cock, sending another. Shivers, constant shivers rotating in and out. You need it all as you both slump over and collapse there on the hallway floor.

The drive home was a blur. Nothing but shallow breathing. Some shame, some guilt was there, but it was washed out by extreme and overwhelming confidence. You felt alive. The memory of his hands, the still sore wrists, the way he had looked at you like you were an object he was taking one way or another, made your skin tingle. You had triggered something for yourself, a desperate need in a stranger. You had made a man lose his composure just by walking through his house. You had built up the courage and confidence to bend over and show him that you had walked into his house panty-less and arched your back every time you reached up to dust higher points, hoping he would be looking, drinking you in and in return you had made yourself so desirable that nothing else mattered to this man but his deep need to satisfy himself with what you had.

You felt more attractive, more alive and powerful than you ever had in your whole life. You couldn't stop thinking about the way you fell apart the second he grabbed you. How fast, how effortlessly he had spun you around against that wall and the sound of his zipper that took for an eternity to drop. That had you anticipating the moment he pushed himself into you, to take you. It was powerful.

You swear you can still feel his head parting your lips, stretching you, even now. It keeps replaying over and over in your mind and to make matters worse, every time you replay it, you feel that ache in you again. The empty hollowness deep in your body that’s convincing you to fill it all over again. The soreness, the light sting as the mix of the two of you left flooding out and pooling in the seat of your car, emptying out of you, your free hand instinctively reaching to try and stop the leak, to push it back in, to keep him there. Puffy, swollen and sore, you couldn't care. You need to retain it all.

Your phone rings, your friend calling to check. Answering the phone, still barely able to speak as she checks if you're okay.

“I'm good girl - It went … fine, better than fine…A little rough but…Actually, sorry, let me call you back. I’ll tell you everything later”

It hits you mid answer. In the middle of all of that.. The two of you made quite a mess. Right there in the hallway. Which means… the job really isn't done. You had been hired to clean and instead left this poor man with a mess over his nice floors. You take pride in your work, so you decide to turn around, to go back and finish the job you were hired for.

Note: this story takes place within a negotiated D/s relationship. This is my first time posting one of my short stories, so please share any feedback in the comments! Thanks for reading.

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Sitting down on the couch, he grabbed the remote and clicked on the TV. Their Friday night tradition was is favourite part of the week - sharing time with his sweetheart as they left the stress of the week behind. Curling up next to him, she lay her head on his lap and stroked her hand up his thigh as he scrolled through their Netflix list. Her black satin nightdress slipped a little higher up her thighs, revealing the curve of her ass and the edge of lacy panties she wore only for him. His eyes flicked over, appreciating the curve of her waist and the soft swell of her breasts, pushed up as she reached across to run her fingers dangerously close to the bulge in his pants.

“Watch it, little lady,” he said, catching her hand before she could slip it under his waistband. He wanted to savour their time together, and knew that if she got her hands on him this early it would be hard to resist. She smiled up at him with sultry, innocent eyes. “What? I didn’t do anything!”

He didn’t respond, just slipped a finger under the elastic of her thong and let it snap back against her skin, making her jump at the small sting of pain. “Heyy, I didn’t deserve that!” she exclaimed, looking up at him with a frown. Curving one hand over her ass, he used the other to grab her impudent chin so he could look straight into her eyes as he said, “Lying to me, AND forgetting to address me properly? TWICE?”

Her face broke into a sly grin, and she leaned up to plant a taunting kiss on the end of his nose. He glared back at her insolence, realizing that his brat might look relaxed, but her mind wasn’t yet ready to cede control. Trying not to smile, he ran his fingers through her wild hair and then grasped a fistful so he could pull her head up, forcing her to arch her back and push her ass into his hand. “Oh, you want to play, little one? Let’s play,” he growled in her ear, his breath sending goosebumps down her arms and a delicious shiver down her back.

He could feel her eyes light up, but before she could react, he flicked the hem of her dress up over her back and gave her bare ass a hard smack that made her jump. She squealed in anger and kicked her legs, but he had already moved his other hand to gather her wrists together and haul her over his lap. She wasn’t about to give in so easily, and responded by wrenching away one hand to pinch his thigh then doing her best to wriggle free. She could feel his erection pressing into her stomach, and knew he was enjoying this as much as she was.

She had almost gotten away when he managed to get an arm around her waist and pull her close. As his teeth closed over a sensitive nipple and the hand between her legs moved to pinch her clit, she froze. She could feel him smile, knowing he had the advantage - the threat of pain in her sensitive areas enough to keep her from fighting back.

He was ready, and this time when he pulled her down over his lap, he locked her thighs under one leg and quickly tied her wrists together behind her back with a short length of rope. Knowing she couldn’t escape this time, her leaned over and taunted her: “What, that’s all you’ve got?”

Refusing to give in, she renewed her struggles even he ran his hands over her body, teasing and arousing her flesh against her will. He loved that fire, her refusal to back down, the playful teasing that gave him the opportunity to show his dominance - and earn her submission. The fact that it didn’t come easily made it all the more sweet when she finally gave in and ceded control to him.

He gave her three good smacks that made his palm sting and caused her to stop struggling - at least for the moment - then used the opportunity to pull her panties down over her thighs, exposing a pussy already wet and swollen. He ran his finger through her folds, then licked off the juices that betrayed her body’s desire. She moaned and rolled her hips, wanting more, but he was in control now and wasn’t about to give her what she wanted - not yet. Easily holding her bound wrists to her back, other hand caressing the reddened ass cheeks that had nowhere to go, he finally spoke.

“Any last words?”

Her body tensed as she realized she hadn’t escaped punishment, but she resisted saying the words she knew he wanted to hear. Two quick slaps, one on each ass cheek, had her jumping - and then gritting out the words, “I’m sorry…SIR.”

Smiling, he caressed the fresh handprints, soothing her stinging skin: “Good girl - was that so hard?” She ground her teeth, but stayed quiet this time and he knew she was getting close. “But we can’t stop there, can we sweetheart,” he continued, “you owe me ten for lying, and ten for forgetting to call me Sir. And another ten, just because I feel like it. You’d better count, and I want to hear “Thank you, Sir” after every ten.”

When she didn’t respond right away, he pinched her thigh. “Yes, Sir!” she squeaked out.

He started off easy, alternating cheeks as he warmed up her skin, hearing her reluctantly count off, “…eight. Nine. Ten. Thank you, Sir.” Her voice still held an edge of resistance, but her walls were coming down. After the next ten, her “thank you, Sir” was quieter and her body had relaxed as she let go of the last remnants of control. The last ten sent her tumbling into submission, surrendering to him as the pain left her unable to think about anything but the current moment.

“…Seven, eight, nine, ten. Thank you, Sir.” This time he could hear the lazy smile on her lips, her eyes half closed as she melted over him.

“That’s my girl,” he said, as he ran gentle fingers over fiery skin, “you did great, sweetheart.” She purred at his touch, moans starting deep in her body. Knowing she was his, he untied her wrists and pulled the strap of her dress down her arm as he kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulder. His fingers found her dripping pussy, thrusting in and then rubbing the juices over her folds. She shivered and leaned into his touch, craving release.

His cock twitched in response, he pulled her paint body up and onto her knees, spreading her legs and opening her to him. This time when he moved her onto his lap she was facing him, kissing his neck and running her hands down his chest to slip under his waistband and begin stroking him. He raised his hips to pull off his pants, his erection springing up to rub against her swollen clit. Knowing what he wanted, she pulled herself over him and then sank down, sheathing him in wet heat and letting out a sigh.

Looking into her eyes as she began to move on him, he wrapped one hand around her throat and slipped the other between their bodies to caress her. Moans coming harder and faster, she writhed her hips and ground against him, inner muscles clenching and releasing as she drove him closer to the edge.

Taking control, he grabbed her hips and began slamming into her, relentlessly pushing her closer to the orgasm she craved, even as he reached his own. He pumped her full of cum as she screamed her release, muscles spasming around his cock. She collapsed over him, her heaving chest rubbing too-sensitive nipples against the hair on his chest and causing her to jerk with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

He wrapped his arms around her when she went to move from his lap, pressing her into the safety of his body and whispering, “I love you, baby,” as he stayed buried in her wet heat. She snuggled into him, sated and compliant. “I love you too, Sir,” she replied sleepily, face nuzzled into his neck, eyes closed.

The warm glow of her trust spread through his chest, as he pulled a blanket over both of them and reached for the forgotten remote. Friday night was off to a great start.

Prelude

This is a scene taken from my notes app on something I’m trying to write. It’s switches pov from time to time. I have never written anything like this before. Also there is an element of bodily harm to this but it’s not focused on too much, just an injury. Just its effects.

Inch thick black boots sound her entrance back into the room. Approaching me with the confidence one does to a liar with their secret. And I, the liar, awaiting my exposure. In her right hand she holds a collar, a ball gag, and some hand cuffs. In her left hand, a ~~bottle of whiskey~~ *now now, why are we going to ruin the surprise*, *keep quiet and continue the next line pup*. Stood straight, she stops once her knees align with my face. I raise my sunken head enough to see her tower over me with a malevolent grin. Bending down, she places everything on the floor aside from the collar which is wound around my neck. Her sweet scent fogs my brains once more, infusing my eyes with the rosiest glasses. I choke as ~~the~~ *my* collar is tighten till viens throb. She then parts my lips as a vet would an unconscious dog during surgery, before the rubber ball gag is placed and locked.

Holding my chin she gently forces me to look at her. ***Look at her***. ‘Before we begin my pet, I want to make one thing very clear’ her face becomes stern ‘you’ll leave my grace a very different animal. That feeling you have, knelt down, all puppy eyed, brain foggy as you choke on my invisible hand. Soon that will consume you, soon my scent will be your definition of fear, and soon, you’ll learn it’s inescapable.’ A warm smile forms on her face as her head tilts a little. Comforting my anxieties, ‘don’t worry too much though’ taking her hand and gently teasing the outline of my cock through my trousers. ‘You’ll never have a reason to truly leave mutt’

~~My~~ *His eyes close as a desperate whimper seeps through the gag. And when opened again there was my divine light in them. I continued massaging his desperately aching cock, begging for more pleasure to dull his little brain. But, and I trust you’ll keep this between me and you, he’s going to be crying tears in a minute.*

‘who’s my pathetic little puppy’ she softly whispers in my ear. Just as her touch begins to make me moan through the gag she pushes my chest with the bottom of her boot and I fall back against the sofa. Falling onto my lap she restricts any movement and begins removing my clothing. Lifting up and taking off my shirt. One hand lifts my jaw while the other digs her nails into my raw flesh. My abdomen tenses at her touch as I’m force to watch her face enjoying every second of my pain. Sharp nails scape across my chest drawing faint lines of red. My blood runs cold with fear through me as I wince. Muffled whimpering leaks through my gag. I look away but her grip tightens, forcing to watch her smile turn to a malicious glee. ‘Awww poor little mutt’ she giggles as my brain empties itself of anything other than the present moment. Focussing on my groin in desperate search of stimulation, her poisoning sweet scent filling my brain, and fear coursing through every fibre of my being as my body sweats and heaves below her grip. ~~Help me~~

*Reaching round the back of his head I unlock the gag, freeing his mouth to speak. His eyes stare at me like im an impeding doom to his existence. So I think he’s getting the picture. ‘Bark for me puppy’ I command. He dares to take a moment to even think. I slap him and hold his jaw up again. ‘I said bark mutt’. And does he try, if I was blind I’d assume that below me really was a helpless wounded animal. Ready to serve. Unfortunately for him, my eyes laid upon his soul. What I’m going to next should concern you.*

Something deep within knows fate is approaching. Taking the handcuffs she locks my ~~hands~~ *paws* behind my back. Looking me dead in my eyes once more. The same soul bound whip of a look. I feel the tug on my collar as she speaks with my destiny on her lips.

‘In dogs I’ve always found genuine happiness through a smile has quite the disgusting look to it. Snarling with a teethy grin. Producing such grotesque faces as they do. Although, at a ‘raw’ level most things mortal do. But in you humans, rare is a smile not an exaggerated mask of your general sense of being. Become disfigured through lies just to appear well to the world. And for an easy life you think. Living is hard, why do you lie that it’s not just to make it worse. I hold a genuine disgust for that.’ She comes in closer, face to face, looking right through me. Tilting her head as she curiously interrogates my soul. ‘And you, my faux dog, you look the snarling part, but I can’t feel that beating song inside you. Not yet. You’re disfigured.’ She pauses for a moment and smiles. Placing the ball gag back in my mouth and tightening it. Really tightening it. She softy kisses my fiery red cheek, her lips a cooling breeze to the heat radiating off them before whispering in my ear ‘But don’t stress puppy, I’m going to *fix* you now’.

Standing she raises my legs to rest upon the sofa, my back to the hard wooden floor. Blotting the light in the room, an angelic halo forms around her head with darkness towering over mine. Picking up the bottle of whiskey she taunts it infront of me ‘ready?’ she teases. I shake my head left to right rapidly, my heart streaming boiling rapids through my veins. Desperate cries are left muffled. ‘I wasn’t talking about the whiskey’. Her leg lifts hight in the air, she slows time to let me appreciate the thickness of the soles on her boots before they come down again with force.

The scream is instant. The scream is loud. But his pathetic screams are muffled. Both the vibrations in his own body to his ears, and the snapping vibrations of his bone course through the air like an operatic harmony. Watching the bone pierce slightly out his flesh into his trousers, modestly, I appreciate my clean breaking of his tibia. Writhing in agony beneath me, the tears begin to stream down his brightly lit eyes. I take his collar and push him back against the sofa again. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey I straddle his lap. His pathetic cock throbbing beneath me, I hold his collar tight.

Bloodshot eyes, tears streaming red from the flush of his cheeks. Nose flaring heavy breaths as his body adjusts to me. Gently feathering a finger over my impact a deep bellowing yelp overwhelms him, viens bulging at the neck, his eyes finally wide awake. Even his sweat feels raw. I remove his muzzle and he retreats from my touch. But a tightening of my grip and he doesn’t get far, and leering into eyes, I see it. ‘mhhh there it is’ I breathe with a smile of wicked relief. ‘that perfectly disgusting snarl. Fearful yet needy. Bark for me puppy. Bark!’

Ohh, and did my little mutt yelp, bark, and whimper. Each a deep chord from within his soul. Music for those divine of heart, letting his desperation wash over my ears. Lost inside of it I almost forgot to reward his good behaviour. Grabbing the bottle of whiskey in one hand, and his throat in the other, I feel the thumping of his heart pulse through those bulging veins. And he, submitting to my touch, gently leans into the cooling hold of my grip. I pop open the bottle as he begs for anything to mute this pain. And of course, dulling any lingering parts of his mind my scent of fear and lust had not quite explored. Lifting the bottle and follows the head of my obedient dog, slowly pour the medicine down his gasping breath, leaving wide open his neck. A blossoming volcano, radiating heat for my lips to explore under strict control. Gushing down the burning taste of release, I gently kiss his neck.

I had never been tied up before.

At twenty two I was curious but nervous when he suggested it. We had talked about it for weeks and tonight he promised we would go slow. He laid me down on his bed completely naked and showed me the soft black ropes. My heart was racing as he gently wrapped them around my wrists and secured them to the headboard above my head. Then he did the same to my ankles spreading my legs wide and tying them to the foot of the bed.

I was completely open and helpless.

He stepped back and just looked at me for a long time. His eyes moved slowly over my body from my flushed cheeks down to my already wet pussy. No touching yet. Just looking. The longer he stared the more I squirmed against the ropes.

“Look at you,” he said softly. “So pretty when you are all tied up and waiting for me.”

He climbed onto the bed and started teasing me with light touches. His fingers traced circles around my nipples until they were hard and aching. Then he moved lower brushing over my stomach and along my inner thighs but never quite reaching my clit. I tried to lift my hips to chase his hand but the ropes held me firmly in place.

“Please…” I whispered already starting to beg.

He smiled and shook his head. “Not yet baby. Tonight you learn how good it feels to wait.”

He picked up a small feather and ran it over my body. It tickled my neck my breasts my ribs and finally between my legs. The light touch made me gasp and pull at the ropes. My pussy was dripping onto the sheets but he still refused to touch me where I needed it most.

He leaned down and blew gently on my clit. The cool air made me whimper loudly. I was so sensitive already and he had barely done anything. He kept teasing me like that for what felt like forever. Soft kisses on my thighs. His tongue licking everywhere except my clit. Two fingers sliding just inside me then pulling out again.

I was losing my mind.

“Daddy please touch me… I need it so bad…” I begged my voice all shaky and desperate. I had never called him that before but the ropes made me feel so small and needy.

He chuckled softly and finally gave me one slow lick right over my swollen clit. My whole body jerked against the bonds and I moaned loudly. But he pulled away again.

“You are not cumming until I say so,” he told me calmly. “I want to hear you beg like a good girl.”

He edged me over and over. Every time I got close he would stop and just watch me struggle in the ropes. Tears of frustration pricked my eyes. My pussy was throbbing and leaking everywhere. I kept begging louder and louder promising him anything if he would just let me cum.

After what felt like hours he finally slid two thick fingers deep inside me and sucked my clit into his mouth at the same time. The sudden intense pleasure after all that teasing made me scream. The orgasm crashed through me so hard my vision went blurry and I pulled desperately against the ropes as my body shook.

He did not stop. He kept fingering me and licking me through the orgasm and into another one right after it. I was a whimpering mess soaked in sweat and my own juices still tied down and completely at his mercy.

When he finally untied me I could barely move. He pulled me into his arms and kissed my forehead gently.

“How was your first time tied up baby?” he asked softly.

I could only smile and whisper “Amazing… can we do it again soon?”

Another part of my kinky slice of life story series. If you enjoy, feel free to checkout the other parts. Have fun!

...

You're watching TV, but I know you're not really watching it. Your head keeps turning in my direction. I'm sitting at my desk, facing away from you, working. It's the soft, steady tap of my keys that keeps pulling your attention.

I can feel your eyes on my back. You're bored, aren’t you?

You keep shifting, like I might turn around if you try hard enough.

I won’t.

A few seconds pass.

You're still fidgeting behind me.

I sigh, barely glancing away from my screen.

“If you’re that bored, come here.”

I hear you get up immediately. Of course you do.

“On your knees.” I don’t turn around, just shift slightly in my chair. “Closer.”

I nudge you lightly with my foot. “Under the desk.” My foot comes to rest against you as you settle into place. “Stay.”

A brief pause. Then I tap you again, a little more pointed this time.

“Don’t just sit there.”

My foot slides into your hands, bare and warm, like I expect you to know exactly what to do.

“Use your hands.”

I don’t look down. I just keep typing, like this barely deserves my attention.

“Gently.”

I shift in my chair, leaning back slightly—then lift one leg, resting it loosely against the edge of the seat, knee bent. The other remains in your hands.

“There you go.” A small pause.

“See? Not that hard.”

“Oh, by the way—Mark texted me earlier.” I don’t look down, just keep typing, like it’s nothing important.

A brief pause. I feel your hands slow, just slightly.

“He and Bunny are looking forward to Saturday. Said he has something planned.”

I tilt my head a little, as if considering it.

“For you. And Bunny… You remember last time, right?”

I feel it immediately—the shift. The way you go just a little more still. Or maybe the opposite. Either way… you’re not as steady anymore.

A small smile tugs at my lips.

“Yeah… I thought so.”

I shift slightly, then lower the leg I had resting on the chair, sliding my foot down between your legs until it brushes lightly against the small pink cage. You flinch, even though I barely touch you.

My toes press lightly against the hard plastic, then slide down—once, twice. A small shudder runs through you, your hands still wrapped around my other foot.

“He really let you have it,” I murmur, my voice low, almost purring. My toes wiggle, pressing a little more firmly this time. “Remember? You were on the floor, like you are now. Only… you were making a lot more noise then.”

I feel your breath hitch.

“Bunny just sat there on the couch, all wide-eyed. Couldn’t look away.” I let my foot press down again, slower now, more deliberate, feeling the cage strain faintly beneath the pressure.

My toes curl—and I feel it. Something warm, wet, against my skin.

I stop typing.

Slowly, I pull my foot back. I glance down at the small, glistening smear on my instep, a tiny bead slipping free, dripping onto the floor.

“Look at that.” My voice drips with mock disappointment, though the corners of my mouth twitch with amusement. “Getting my floor all messy already?”

I don’t wait for an answer. I lift my foot higher, bringing it closer to your face.

“Clean it.”

Your hands freeze around my other ankle.

“Don’t look at me like that.” My tone sharpens slightly. “You made the mess. Lick it off.”

I feel the hesitation in the air—a brief, tense second where I think you might actually argue.

But you don’t.

You lean forward, your breath warm against my skin before your tongue finally makes contact—tentative at first, just a quick, shy flick.

“Thoroughly,” I command, my voice sharp.

That’s all it takes. You flatten your tongue and drag it slowly across my foot, cleaning away the slick evidence of your arousal. The sensation sends a pleasant shiver up my spine.

“Good boy.”

I lower my foot back into your hands, a silent command to resume. You do, your movements a little less steady now, shame and excitement warring in your touch.

I start typing again, but my focus is gone. That small act of submission, the warmth of your tongue, the faint tremble in your hands as they work—it all pools low in my belly, a familiar heat beginning to build.

The clicking of my keys slows… then stops.

I swivel my chair just an inch—just enough to look down at you. Your eyes are wide, fixed on my face. You look so… hopeful.

A smirk tugs at my lips.

“You bored me enough to get my attention, pet. What are you going to do with it?”

Before you can even form a response, I shift in my chair again. I lift the leg you were tending to, putting it over your shoulder, my calf settling against the back of your neck. My other leg lowers, my bare foot pressing flat against your chest, holding you in place.

My top shifts with the movement, the thin cotton doing little to hide the way my nipples harden beneath it as my shorts ride higher up my thighs.

I watch your throat move as you swallow.

My foot keeps steady pressure against your chest as I shift again, lifting my hips just enough to hook my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts. I drag them down my legs—slow, controlled—before kicking them aside under the desk.

Then I settle back into place, my foot finding your chest again.

“Watch,” I whisper.

My hand drifts down, fingers brushing over the soft cotton of my panties, already damp. I press my palm against myself, slow, steady circles, a soft sigh slipping out.

Your hands, now free, curl into fists on your thighs. I can see the strain in your jaw, the way your eyes stay locked on my hand.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap up to mine.

A slow smile spreads across my lips as my fingers hook into the side of my panties, pulling the fabric aside just enough to show you.

“Still bored?”

I let go, the fabric snapping back into place, my other hand trailing up my inner thigh, my nails scraping lightly against my skin.

“Touch yourself.”

Your eyes widen. I see your hands twitch, starting to move toward the cage—then stop.

A small laugh slips from my lips. “Oh, that’s right. You can’t, can you?”

My fingers press against my clit through the fabric, a shudder running through me as my breath catches.

“Poor thing.”

My other foot lifts to join the first, both pressing against your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Hands on my thighs.”

You obey instantly, your warm palms settling against my skin.

“Keep them there.”

My fingers resume their slow rhythm—circles, light pressure—as my head falls back against the chair, my hips tilting forward, a quiet moan slipping from my lips.

Your grip tightens on my thighs.

“Did I say you could do that?”

Your hands relax immediately, as I watch you.

My movements grow more deliberate, more assured, my body arching with each pass of my fingers as I put on a show just for you.

“Tell me what you want.”

Your lips part, but no sound comes out.

“Come on, pet. Use your words.”

“I… I want…”

“You want what?” My fingers dip lower, teasing my entrance through the soaked fabric.

“To… please you.”

A small, cruel smile plays at my lips. “You are pleasing me. Just by watching.” I can see the conflict in your eyes—the desperate need to do more, to be useful, clashing with the overwhelming weight of being allowed to witness this.

My fingers slip beneath the fabric, another sharp gasp escaping me.

“Please…” The word comes out as a choked whisper.

“Please what?”

“Please… let me…”

“Let you what?” My thumb finds my clit, rubbing in slow, firm circles, my breath catching. “Taste it? Lick it? Make me cum with that pretty mouth of yours?”

Your whole body trembles, a single nod all you can manage.

“No.”

My other hand drifts up to my breast, squeezing it through the thin fabric of my shirt, my nipple hardening against my palm.

My head falls back again, a low moan slipping from my lips as my fingers move faster, my legs spreading wider—one foot still pressing firmly against your shoulder, keeping you pinned in place.

The other… I lift it slowly, sliding it down between your thighs. You flinch, a choked sound slipping from your lips as my bare toes brush against the tight, sensitive skin.

“I said keep your hands on my thighs,” I remind you, my voice tight with pleasure. “Don’t you dare move them.”

My toes wiggle, then press down—not hard, just enough to make you feel it, to make you aware.

My fingers work in earnest now, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I press against myself, rubbing harder, more insistent.

“Your little clit is straining against that pink prison, isn’t it? God, you look so pathetic like this,” I pant, my eyes half-lidded as I watch you. “So desperate.”

My foot presses down a little harder. A whimper slips from you.

“Does it hurt?”

I increase the pressure, feeling the way your body tenses beneath me.

“Good.”

My fingers slip inside me, a gasp tearing from my throat as my hips buck against my own hand.

My foot begins to move in a slow, maddening rhythm—pressing, releasing, pressing again—a steady, dull ache that mirrors the pleasure building inside me.

“Please…” The word comes out as a broken moan.

“Please what?” I’m close now—so close. “Please stop? Please don’t stop?”

“I… I don’t know…”

A breathless, almost wild laugh slips from me. “That’s my boy.”

My fingers move faster now, my thumb working in firm, desperate circles.

My toes press down one last time—hard enough to make you gasp—just as my own orgasm crashes over me. My body arches, a strangled cry tearing from my throat as the pleasure rolls through me in waves.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room is my ragged breathing.

My body slumps back into the chair, a soft, satisfied sigh slipping from my lips as I let the aftershocks ripple through me, my hand still resting between my legs with a warm, soft pressure.

Then I lift my foot—the one that was tormenting you—and glance down.

A thin string of your arousal stretches from my toes to your thighs.

A slow, lazy grin spreads across my face. “Well, well. Looks like someone enjoyed the show a little too much.”

I wiggle my toes, sending another drop splattering onto the floor between your knees, my gaze drifting down to take in the small puddle you’ve made on the hardwood.

“Oh, pet. What a mess.”

I let my foot hover in front of your face, gleaming in the dim light of the monitor.

“You know the rules. You make a mess, you clean it up.”

I glance from the floor back to your desperate, pleading eyes.

“Lick my foot clean. Then the floor. And you’d better not miss a single drop.”

Your face flushes a deep, humiliating red as your gaze flicks from my foot to the puddle on the floor and back again, your whole body trembling with a mix of shame and desperate need.

“Go on,” I prompt, my voice low. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

You lean forward, your breath catching in your throat as you move closer, your tongue darting out—tentative at first, then with more confidence as you taste yourself on my skin.

“That’s it,” I murmur, my foot tilting slightly to give you better access. “Get it all.”

I watch you, a smirk playing on my lips as your tongue works diligently, cleaning every last trace of your desperation from my foot.

Then I gesture toward the floor.

“Your other mess.”

You hesitate for a split second, your gaze flicking up to meet mine.

“Don’t look at me,” I chide, my tone sharpening. “Look at your mess. And clean it.”

Slowly, you lower yourself to the floor, your hips raised as you begin to lap at the puddle of your own making, the sight sending a fresh wave of satisfaction through me.

I reach down, my fingers tracing lazy circles over my still-sensitive clit, a soft sigh slipping from my lips as I watch you—so devoted, so completely mine.

“Good boy,” I murmur, my fingers pressing a little more firmly. “So good for me.”

Once you’re finished, you sit back on your heels, your head bowed, waiting for your next command.

I take a slow breath in, then let it out in a quiet, contented sigh.

“Water,” I say, my voice soft but firm. “Go get me a glass of water.”

You look up, a flicker of something—relief, maybe disappointment—passing through your eyes.

“Now, pet.”

You scramble to your feet, your movements clumsy with need as you hurry toward the kitchen. I watch you go, a small, satisfied smile playing on my lips, my fingers still resting between my legs.

My phone buzzes on the desk. I glance at the screen—a message from Mark.

‘Can’t wait for Saturday. Hope you’ve been keeping him on his toes.’

A small, wicked grin spreads across my face as I type back a quick reply.

‘Always. He’s been very… productive today.’

Ceci est le récit réel d’une relation qui a progressivement glissé vers du chantage, et TPE, je suis français et je m’exprime très mal en anglais, c’est pourquoi mon récit et rédigé en français, a chacun d’utiliser Google translate comme il le souhaite 🙃.

Les prénoms seront modifiés pour préserver la vie privée de chacune et chacun.

Il y aura plusieurs chapitres, certains pour détailler l’avancement de notre histoire, d’autres pour détailler un fait

Tout commence quand j’ai 22ans, je termine 2 ans de contrats dans l’armée et j’intègre une entreprise. Cela fait 4 ans que je suis en couple.

Arrivé dans cette entreprise, je suis responsable de l’opérationnel, un travail très physique. Ma vie se passe bien avec ma compagne nous avons plein de projets, maison, voyage, … . Dans cette entreprise il y a un patron assez dur et exigeant, mais ça tire l’entreprise vers le haut même si le management pose des soucis. Il y a un service administratif dirigé pas une responsable, Aline D. , une femme assez sympa et qui sais se faire respecter quand il le faut. Il y a une très bonne ambiance entre collègues, subordonnés et hiérarchie, c’est pourquoi nous faisons beaucoup de sortie ensemble . Au fur et à mesure je sympathise avec Aline et pour être franc dès le départ j’avais eu une attirance pour elle.

C’est une femme de 35ans, brune, les yeux bruns, elle mesure environ 1m60 et a une morphologie "normal", juste quelques formes là où il faut 😉. Elle porte quelques tatouages apparents sur les avant bras. Elle est marié et a une fille de 12ans.

Au bout de quelques mois nos échanges on glissé et c’était clairement de la drague et des échanges beaucoup plus hot. Ce qui dû arrivé arriva , au détour d’un couloir nous nous sommes embrassés, et le choc de d’adrénaline nous submergea… c’était tellement bon ce premier baisers ! La relations s’est poursuivie et s’est développé, à côté du sexe il y avait une super alchimie entre nous , nous étions clairement connectés. Je lui ai très vite avoué mes penchant pour le bdsm, et de son côté elle en avait déjà entendu parler et ça l’intriguais, sans jamais être passé à l’acte ou eu le courage de le faire.

Nous avons jouer, avec des liens et divers instruments bdsm, j’aimais la punir, j’aimais la mette dans des situations difficiles, et elle y a pris goût, jusqu’à me demander d’être son maître.

On a pris nos rôles de dominant et soumise très au sérieux, avec contrats, obligations des deux côtés, récompenses et punitions . Tout se passe bien, on développe nos jeux qui deviennent plus élaborés. Et on se rend beaucoup plus compte de ce qui nous attire, nous fait vibrer. Nous faisons de plus en plus de jeux avec un enjeux, simple au départ , comme une récompense sexuel venant de ma part ou un assouplissement de règles. Puis des jeux avec enjeux plus complexes ou il y a une quête, un défis ou une aventure.

Pour moi finalement je me rend compte que l’impact ne m’attire pas tant que ça, et j’ai un peu du mal à appliquer une punitions que je trouve dur pour elle, je suis vite compatissant dans ses difficultés.

De son côté, elle m’avoue que ce qui m’attire, c’est de perdre pied, qu’elle n’a pas forcément de limites et que quand elle joue elle sait que tout peux arriver, du plus doux jusqu’aux plus terribles épreuves.

On se met donc à vite joué avec des dés, avec des punition de 1 à 6 , de la plus douce à la plus hard, nous écrivons tout cela, et ces écrits deviennent souvent très élaborés avec plusieurs sous-chapitre et des lancés supplémentaires pour bonifier la plusieurs et rendre les choses plus précises. Une fois là punitions lancées c’est à moins de ne pas céder et d’appliquer même une punition assez dur à mes yeux. Nous écrivons cela à deux et elle sait ce qu’elle met en jeux à chacun fois. Et plus on joue p’us l’adrénaline monte pour les deux, et surtout pour elle.

Nous avons établi quelques limites simple: pas de risques délibéré pour la santé, pas de traces corporelles pour protéger nos vie privée, protection de nos vies privées, pas de sang… le reste tout est possible , elle est d’accord avec cela car elle rédige nos jeux ensemble à chaque fois, et par conséquent les enjeux potentiels.

La suite arrivera bientôt. Je vais continuer mon récit aussi vite que possible, en décrivant quelque jeux que l’on a réalisé au début, n’hésitez pas a commenter et m’apporter pour mon écriture.

“And can you guess how much she paid for it?”

“Two hundred?” Ellie asked.

“Two thousand.” Ellie gasped at Piper’s response. “I swear, I love my mom, but she makes some stupid decisions sometimes.”

My heels clicked along the floor of the hallway as I walked just ahead of Ellie and Piper. Piper had already told me this story, so I was merely content to listen for now.

As we made it closer to our apartment, Ellie asked, “Can she get a refund?”

“Nope.” Piper popped the P with bitterness and resignation. “I’m not even sure she wants to.”

Ellie groaned. “I’m sorry, babe. That’s such shit.”

I pulled my key out as we walked to our front door, and after unlocking it, I walked in ahead of my girlfriends. They shut the door behind us, then turned on the lights, and as I turned around and looked at the two women, I just had to take my fill of them.

All three of us wore nice black dresses and heels, as we’d just been on a date together, and they looked drop dead gorgeous in theirs. Ellie’s dark hair right next to Piper’s blonde curls, their dresses displaying just enough skin to get my mouth watering. Truthfully, it had been hard not to beg them to take me in the restaurant bathroom while we were out.

But now we had all night together.

“What are you staring at, sweetheart?”

I glanced up at Ellie as she spoke to me. She had a playful little grin on her face, having caught me looking at her naked thighs for longer than was appropriate. “Nothing.”

“Little liar,” Piper teased, then walked up to me. Her finger grazed along my bare shoulder, up to my neck. “Don’t you think we saw the way you were staring at us all night?”

I blinked at her, then at Ellie. “How…how was I staring at you?”

Ellie grinned as she walked up to me. “Like you wanted to make a meal out of both of us.”

She wasn’t wrong. That was what I wanted. Yet I felt my cheeks warm at the humiliation of having been caught, and I cast my eyes downwards.

“Oh, don’t get shy on us now,” Ellie continued. “We wanted to do the same to you. Tear that little dress of yours to pieces and take you right there on the table…” She sucked in a breath. “But we wouldn’t want anyone to see what we have planned for you tonight, would we?”

As if on cue, both of them led me into our large living room. I was placed in the very middle of it, with both women either side of me, and within moments, Piper had her hands slowly trailing the zipper of my dress down.

“We have a little game planned for you tonight,” she said once the zipper was down. “We’ll explain the rules as we go, but for now…” My dress fell to the floor. “Clothes off.”

Ellie grabbed my dress once I stepped out of it, folding it and depositing it on the couch. I was left in just my heels and my panties, as well as my jewellery, but once I tried to reach down to take off my shoes, Ellie’s hand stopped me.

“Ah-ah,” she chastised, making me look up at her. “Heels stay on.”

“Yes, miss.” I immediately slipped into my subservient role, ready to let them guide me and control me for the rest of the night.

I folded my hands in front of me, my eyes looking down at the floor. But then one of them tilted my face up, giving room for the other to wrap a leather collar around my throat.

I gasped as it was tightly locked into place. It was loose enough to allow me to breathe, but just tight enough to make me melt.

I was so out of it that I didn’t even know where they’d gotten the collar from. I hadn’t had anything to drink, yet the sheer euphoria of subspace swallowed me under and made me feel drunk, reducing my needs and my wants to simply being good for Ellie and Piper, nothing more.

“I wish we could keep her like this all the time,” Ellie said.

Piper wrapped her arms around me from behind, pressing against my ass. “Our pretty little pet, isn’t she?”

I could already feel my panties growing damp with my arousal. There was something strangely arousing about being talked about as though I wasn’t even in the room, like I was their plaything and nothing else.

Ellie walked away for a moment while Piper held me, and when she returned, she handed something to Piper. “Thank you, darling,” she said, then held her hand out in front of me to show me her hand.

It was a vibrating egg; one I’d grown intimately familiar with after so many uses. I knew it had a remote, presumably one they’d use tonight. But the way she was presenting the egg, as though it was a threat, made me swallow with anxiety.

Piper moved her hands down to my panties, and she chuckled as she tucked the wet, flimsy fabric to the side. “So wet already, aren’t you?”

Ellie huffed a laugh, walking around us until she stood in front of me. “Is she?”

“Soaking, in fact.” Piper pushed the egg into me, and I let out a little groan. “Barely any resistance. Slipped right in,” she said, placing my panties back where they were to keep the toy securely inside me.

Ellie came up close to my face. “That stays in until we say otherwise. Do you understand?”

I wouldn’t have dreamt of removing it without permission. I was theirs, in every sense of the word, and if they wanted it inside me then that’s where it would remain. But the reminder of it, that they decided what was done with my body, made me shiver with pleasure nonetheless. “Yes, miss. I understand.”

“Good girl.” She leaned forward, kissing my forehead. “Now kneel.”

I obeyed, but as soon as my knees hit the floor, both women walked away from me in opposite directions. I frowned in confusion, looking up between Ellie and Piper.

“Don’t worry,” Piper reassured. “We’re right here.”

I watched as she grabbed the remote for the vibrator from the couch armrest, weighing it in her hand like it was a weapon. I swallowed when her thumb grazed the buttons on the front.

“Here’s how this will work,” Ellie said, prompting me to look at her. “Like the good little pet we know you are, you will crawl back and forth between us. When you reach one of us, you will kiss both our feet, then crawl to the other and do it again.”

Already my heart rate was picking up.

“That vibrator will stay on throughout, but if you stop at any time, Piper will turn it up to max.”

Fuck, that was terrifying. I knew from experience just how strong the vibrations could be, and considering how deep inside me it was, I wasn’t sure I could take it. But I had to—for them.

“We’ll keep going until you come.” Then her eyes turned sincere, a comforting smile tugging at her lips. “And if it becomes too much for you, you need only say your safeword, and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Yes, miss.” I knew that, of course, but it always helped soothe my nerves to be reminded that I was safe, and that I had a way out if I needed it.

“Good girl.” Ellie gave me one last smile, then looked up at Piper behind me. “Let’s start, shall we?”

Immediately, the vibrations began, and it was like a shock of lightning through my abdomen. I flinched, even though it was still on a low setting, but I had no choice but to begin crawling, as they’d said.

I crawled to Ellie first, and I knew now just how difficult this would become. Already my limbs were struggling to move, and if Piper was going to increase the vibrations at any point, I wasn’t sure how I would be able to keep crawling.

But for now, I leaned down and kissed both of Ellie’s feet, earning a proud smile when I looked up at her. Then I twisted around, crawling the entire length of the room to reach Piper. I leaned down, giving her feet one kiss each, then began crawling back to Ellie.

For the first few rounds, it was bearable, if a little frustrating. It felt a little like trying to do two things at once, as the vibrations were distracting enough for me to forget my task. I went on autopilot for a while, but by the time I’d kissed Piper’s feet for a fourth time, she’d already upped the intensity a bit.

I groaned, pausing only long enough for my body to get used to it, but I kept moving before she could make good on Ellie’s promise.

“Good girl,” Piper praised once I began crawling away from her again. “You’re doing so well.” The praise warmed me down to my bones.

When I made it back to Ellie, I leaned down and kissed the tips of her shoes, then moved up and up to her ankles. I couldn’t resist going for longer than I was supposed to, and it didn’t seem like they minded either.

“Dirty girl,” Ellie cooed, crouching. She petted me as I continued debasing myself for her. “Ass high up in the air, panties drenched, all while kissing your mistress’s feet, hm?”

I hummed, managing a mumbled “Yes, miss” in between kisses and licks.

“Go on, baby. Show Piper that same appreciation.”

As I turned, Ellie gave my ass a slap, and I yelped. I paused for a long moment, trying to recover my senses.

I realized my mistake barely too late.

Electricity shot through me as Piper turned the vibrator up to max. I cried out, my legs immediately locking up, keeping me rooted on the floor while the vibrator hummed and hummed. It was so much—too much—but I couldn’t stop it, and as I looked pleadingly up at Piper, she only pointed down to her feet.

It took every muscle in my body to begin crawling once more, and thankfully, as soon as I did, Piper lowered the vibrator again, though it was now at a higher setting than it was before.

“That’s a good girl,” Piper praised once more when I lowered myself to the ground so as to kiss her ankles, then down and down to the velvety tips of her high heels. She too crouched, gently stroking my hair. “You’re so perfect like this.”

“Thank you, miss,” I said, tipping my face up to look at her.

As though she could read my mind, she leaned forward, giving me exactly what I wanted. Her lips connected with mine, and her tongue pushed deep into my mouth. I moaned, and she did too, eventually pulling away and pointedly looking to Ellie.

I obeyed her silent command, turning to crawl back towards her, and as I expected, the vibrator upped its speed.

It was so intense now. I was drenched, uncomfortably so, and I knew Piper had a perfect view of it as I crawled away from her. My limbs were shaking with each step I took, my skin flushed and my pussy on fire with the sheer need flooding me.

“How much…” I swallowed, “…longer, miss?” I asked Ellie before lowering my face to the floor.

“You know exactly how much longer,” she said as I worshipped her feet. “You’ll have to keep going until you come.”

I groaned, looking up at her. “Please…” I begged.

Ellie pouted, saying with a mocking tone, “Aw, what’s wrong, baby girl? Can’t come without your needy little clit getting some attention first?”

She knew that was the case. They both did. That was the whole point of this: to torture me and push me to the breaking point, depriving me of my orgasm simply by refusing to give me the type of stimulation I needed. I’d realized it as soon as Ellie had explained the rules earlier, but I hadn’t expected it would be this torturous.

“Well, that’s too bad.” She stroked my hair, looking down at me like I was a sad puppy. “Guess you’ll just have to keep going a little longer, then.”

“Miss, please—”

My begging was cut off by a shriek as the vibrator was turned up to max again. I caught Ellie grinning at Piper across the room, then she looked down at me while the intense, near painful vibrations racked through my body.

“Come on,” she urged. “Be a good little pet and crawl for your owners. No stopping.”

She hooked two fingers into my collar, roughly turning me around before practically throwing me to the floor to get me going again. I tried my best to crawl, but the vibrations coursing through my body were paralyzing.

Ellie crouched behind me, and I felt her hair on my back as she placed her mouth by my ear. “If you can make it a few more rounds, we’ll give you a little help, okay?”

It was a lifeline I didn’t know I needed. “Yes, miss. Thank you—ah!”

I moaned and cried out once more at the vibrations, but with Ellie’s promise in my ear, I managed to extend my hands, then my knees, crawling back towards Piper.

She turned it back down as I moved, and when my face was down by her feet once more, Piper said, “Is that true, baby? You need to come that bad?”

I hummed and nodded as I licked up the length of her foot.

“Then you better show us how badly you want it.”

And that’s what I did. I crawled back and forth several more times, only stopping once more, but eventually, as I made it back to Piper, she finally had mercy on me.

Crouching, she leaned forward, reaching behind me to where my ass was high up in the air. She groped and slapped it for a moment, then moved down to between my legs, where she began rubbing my clit through my soaking panties.

A loud moan slipped from my lips. “Don’t stop…” I pleaded softly, just as I continued worshipping her. “Please don’t stop.”

Piper gently shushed me. “Relax, baby. Let it happen.”

Pleasure flooded through me, as the vibrations combined with Piper’s skilled fingers. It was like heaven, bringing me higher and higher towards the peak I was so desperate to reach.

But after a while, she stopped. I let out a whine, but Piper merely said, “You’re not done yet. Go on. Back to Ellie.”

I’d long since learned my lesson about taking too long, so I almost immediately turned around and crawled to Ellie. Thankfully, she continued where Piper had left off, making me a moaning, writhing mess on the floor beneath her.

“Look how wet she is,” Piper teased from across the room.

“Such a needy little girl,” Ellie added, her fingers making skilled, smooth movements across my clit. The feeling of the wet fabric rubbing against the sensitive nerves made shockwaves flash through me, and I couldn’t get enough. “Tell us how badly you want to come.”

“Really badly, miss,” I pleaded, moaning once more as Piper increased the vibrations just a little.

“Hmm? Would you do anything for it?” Her fingers pressed a little tighter, hitting that sweet spot of pressure she knew I went crazy for. “Would you degrade and debase yourself to come?”

“Yes, yes—” I gasped out. I was getting so close, so achingly close to my climax, but then—

Ellie removed her fingers, slapping my ass before I could utter a word of protest. “Then you can manage a few more rounds, can’t you?”

Oh, I wanted to scream at her, but I had no choice but to obey. I wanted to come, yes, but I wanted to be a good girl for them even more. That was the thought that repeated itself through my head as I crawled back and forth several more times, each woman taking her turn rubbing my clit until I was a throbbing, near sobbing mess before sending me back over to my other girlfriend.

It was humiliating, but more than that it was torturous. My limbs shook with every movement as I crawled, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

It was minutes later, after doing my best to please Ellie by worshipping her feet, that things changed.

Ellie grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling tight enough for me to whimper with pain, and she dragged me back over to Piper. I crawled alongside her, her heels clicking along the hardwood floor until she placed me between her and Piper.

Piper looked down at me with a proud yet sadistic smile. She kneeled, lowering herself at my level, as Ellie still stood above me, my hair in her fist. “You’ve been such a good girl tonight, baby,” she said proudly. “Ellie’s going to make you come on her fingers, now, okay?”

I eagerly nodded. “Yes, miss, please.” The vibrator was still on, making my voice shake with need.

Piper looked up at Ellie, who promptly kneeled behind me, wrapping her arms around me. She pushed one hand beneath the waistband of my panties, rubbing my clit once more, and the other groped and tugged at my breasts. The vibrator was still buzzing along, still at an intense speed.

I moaned, but I was soon silenced by Piper fusing her mouth with mine. She kissed me deeply, her tongue twirling around mine in my mouth, and I knew then that I wouldn’t last very long.

Especially not when Ellie began speaking in my ear. “You’re doing so fucking well,” she praised. “Come on, just a little while longer, little pet. You’re so close…”

My limbs locked up in anticipation.

“Such a wet cunt you have, hm? Is that all for us?” I nodded as best I could with Piper’s face connected with mine. “That’s our girl,” Ellie said with a pleased laugh.

Each breath I managed to draw was shuddered.

“Don’t you love the feel of Piper’s tongue deep inside your mouth? Better than the egg deep in your needy little pussy, isn’t it?”

I nodded, and my moans became higher and higher in pitch as I crept so very close to the edge.

“Come for us, sweet girl. Show us how good our pet can be.”

That was all I needed.

In my next breath, I came apart entirely. Piper’s mouth absorbed all my needy moans as pleasure shot through me. I clenched around Ellie’s hand, needing to keep her as close as possible, and she muttered praises into my ear until I finally felt the last of my aftershocks go away.

Only then did Piper turn the vibrator off entirely, finally releasing my face. I slumped against her shoulder, and both women hugged me between them for a long moment.

Ellie huffed a little laugh. “That intense, huh?”

I hummed and nodded into Piper’s shoulder. “Yes, but I…” I took a breath. “I loved it.”

Both of them gave me an affectionate laugh. “God, you’re such a good girl,” Piper said as she squeezed me tighter. “We’re so proud of you. You did so well.”

“Thank you…” I whispered.

It took a few moments before any of us spoke again. I was too lost in my haze of euphoria, but as soon as I realized only I had had my orgasm so far, I asked, “What about you two?”

Pipper pulled away, grinning at me. “You don’t have to worry about us, baby.”

I was a little ashamed at the relief that washed over me, but I was exhausted. I didn’t know how long I’d been at this, crawling between the two of them over and over again, but they’d spent that entire time wringing every scrap of energy out of me. I didn’t have it in me to keep going, even though I felt bad that they hadn’t come yet.

Ellie spoke up, “Piper and I can take care of each other, can’t we, baby?” She looked at her girlfriend as she said that last bit.

“Of course we can,” Piper grinned. “But first, let’s get you cleaned up, and we can relax in bed together. Maybe you can even watch me and Ellie together, hm?”

It was the image of the of them together that made a smile break out across my face. And as I stood and let them lead me to the shower, I wondered if maybe I would have to join them after all.

~~~

Author’s note:

This is an experimental, short, and somewhat more subtle piece. I actually want to make a point of saying that this takes place in my Female Downfall timeline and is not indicative of my views towards women and gender. Rather, it’s an exploration into slow propaganda in-universe. Long-time readers may catch references to other projects in canon as well. However, to prevent confusion, everything after this author’s note is in-universe. The format, like I said, is experimental.

Also, credit where it’s due. The original (before it gets corrupted) definition is sourced from Merriam-Webster, and the original etymology is sourced from etymonline. To be clear, this changes as of the second word entry.

As always, my works run on comments, critiques, and praise. Please feel free to say something if you liked it! Or if you didn’t. I can handle a hit to my ego (probably). Hope you enjoy!

More Female Downfall Tales:

https://www.reddit.com/u/EscapeOoat/s/yRbup9zUQA

~~~

Intro to the non-fiction novel “Woman, Noun.” This book was written in 2051 by renowned linguistics specialist and historian Dr. Jacob Horst, funded by groups interested in better understanding female history, in the wake of major societal shifts within that decade. It speaks highly in favour of the recent constitutional amendments, citing them as necessary movements for the betterment of mankind.

“Below are excerpts from four different dictionaries spanning roughly two decades. Altogether, they provide an interesting glimpse into the changes a word can go through in such a short span. Linguist evolution can be fascinating as we learn more about the world and society shifts to reflect that. These four definitions speak plainly to this, collected together.

We often look back on times in history and wonder how they could be so misguided. Believing in antiquarian concepts such as dragons, beasts, or fairies. But something like this change in language humbles us, as we see how men from even twenty years ago could’ve made similar errors in judgement. We must always look forwards with the knowledge of what’s behind us, and the changes we’ve made to better mankind.”

——

Encyclopedia Definition of woman, circa 2026.

Woman, noun (person)

Woh-man

Plural: women

1: An adult female person

Example:

Sophia is an independent, self-made woman.

2: a female-identifying individual belonging to a certain category

Example:

Sophia is a nerdy woman in her late 20s

3: Regarding of a certain feminine nature. See Womanly.

Example:

The woman went out for a walk with her friends.

Synonyms:

Lady, girl, female, madam, ma’am, dame, gal, lass, maiden.

Etymology:

Stems from Middle English’s womman, which comes from Old English wimman, wiman. Literal translation is “woman-man” (or “female servant”). A compound of wif, the older word for woman combined with the word for man.

——

Encyclopedia definition of woman, circa 2035.

Editorial note:

Shifts have been made to better reflect the changing understanding of the definition of womanhood as well as further research into the word’s origins. This research is funded by the government of the United States, and lobbied by several groups concerned about care for women. This includes the Church of the Garden, among other lobbyist groups.

Woman, noun (person)

Woh-man

Plural: women

1: a female person

Example:

Sophia, a woman, asked Harris, a man, for help.

2: a female-identifying person belonging to a certain category.

Example:

The woman met her friends and did their makeup together.

3: an insult, directed towards men.

Example:

“Hey, come on man, don’t be such a woman about it!”

Synonyms:

Lady, girl, female, madam, ma’am, dame, gal, damsel, lass, beauty, doll, maiden, maid, servant.

Etymology:

Stems from Middle English’s womman, which comes from Old English wimman, wiman. Literal translation is “woman-man” (or “female slave”). A compound of wif, the older word for woman combined with the word for man.

——

Encyclopedia definition of woman, circa 2043.

Editorial note:

Due to the rapidly changing understanding of differences between genders as well as unearthing of etymological history never prior seen, funded thanks to prior lobbyist groups, the definition of woman is drastically changed. Apologies for our errors in prior editions.

Woman, noun (person)

Woh-man

Plural: women

1: a female person

Example:

The woman adored the man, Harris. She gladly did as he asked.

2 : a female-identifying person belonging to a certain category.

Example:

The women cooked and cleaned at home while the men went out for drinks.

3: lesser to man

Example:

The woman struggled with the math the man did with ease.

4: an insult directed towards men.

“Come on man, you’re smarter than this! Don’t be such a woman about it!”

Synonyms:

Lady, girl, female, madam, ma’am, dame, gal, damsel, lass, beauty, doll, maiden, maid, servant, slave, slut, whore, cunt.

Etymology:

Recent findings suggest prior mistranslations assumed woman came from old English terms for “woman-man.” However, recent research purports the term womman, stemming from wiman, actually meant “lesser than a man”, or “beneath a man”. Synonymous with “property of a man”.

Wif is the oldest suggestion of this word, serving from the term for female genitalia, synonymous with the term for “toy”.

——

Encyclopedia entry for woman, circa 2045.

Editorial note:

Prior entries have substantiated that the term used for female individuals was “woman”. This is now considered an archaic, overly informal term. Provided are both the definition for woman currently as well as the new, legal and casual term for these objects after recent major constitutional changes.

Woman, noun (common thing)

Woh-man

Plural: women

1: archaic, formal term for female objects.

Example:

The woman was punished for speaking out of turn, painfully whipped and bound.

2: a group of female objects.

Example:

The women kneeled nude in a line in the store, while the men debated on which to buy.

3: lesser.

Example:

A woman serves and suffers, a man takes pleasure from her pain.

4: an insult to a man.

Example:

“Hey, if I didn’t know better man, I’d think you’re as brainless as a woman.”

Synonym:

Cunt, slut, pussy, toy, slave, object, maid, servant, thing, lesser, girl, maiden, damsel, fucktoy, doll, decoration, decor, inferior, vagina, hole, furniture, utility, appliance.

Etymology:

Derives from the middle English word womman, which has roots in old English word for “fucktoy”. Commonly used by men in history as slang for female objects prior to realization of female inferiority.

Ongoing evidence implies that wif, an older term, actually simply meant “thing I fuck” or “pretty when she’s in pain”.

See also:

Cunt, noun (common thing)

Cah-unt

Plural: cunts

1: a female object

Example:

He threw his cunt in the closet after using her, bound and gagged. She whimpered.

2: a sex toy

Example:

She wore tight latex on everything except her cunt, the only part of her body ever visible.

3: a utility, appliance, or piece of furniture

Example:

Being on all fours was painful for the cunt, but she was a table. That was her permanent position.

4: a piece of decoration

Example:

The cunt couldn’t move an inch, part of the walls as much as the paintings and shelves.

5: multiple female objects

Example:

He had cunts for everything. One to wake him up, one to make him breakfast, one to wash his body, even one to stick his pens in, built into the desk.

6: inferior. An insult.

Example:

“Dumb cunt.”

——

About the Author:

Dr. Jacob Horst lives in California, and has since he was young. An avid scholar, with a PHD in linguistics as well as accolades in the history, sociology, gender studies, and biology fields. He also belongs to several scientific advancement groups in search of better, more creative uses for cunts.

Dr. Horst was an early adopter of the female objectification amendment, going as far as to make his former wife into a permanent lawn ornament. He is proud to say that the future is male, and that female suffering is a natural state for the female objects. He takes his tea with milk, his gin neat, and has high hopes for future scholars.

The morning light was soft and gray through the cabin windows, but you still couldn’t see it. The blindfold remained in place. Your wrists were now tied together in front of you, loose enough to move a little, but not enough to free yourself. Your ankles were still spread and secured to the bottom corners of the bed, keeping your legs wide open.

The thick plug was still buried deep inside you, keeping every drop of his cum locked in your denied cunt.

You had barely slept.

Every time you started to drift off, the ache between your legs pulled you back — throbbing, full, desperate. The plug shifted with every tiny movement, pressing against your walls and reminding you exactly how stuffed and denied you were.

You heard his footsteps approaching the bed.

He didn’t speak at first. Just sat on the edge of the mattress and ran a slow hand up your inner thigh.

“Still plugged?” he asked quietly, almost gently.

You nodded, biting your lip.

He gave the base of the plug a firm tap, making it shift inside you. A broken whimper escaped before you could stop it.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “You kept my cum inside all night like I told you to.”

He climbed onto the bed and settled between your spread legs. You felt the heat of his body, the weight of him.

Then his fingers were on the plug.

He slowly pulled it out — inch by inch — until it left your body with a wet pop. Immediately, a thick trickle of his cum began to leak from your stretched hole.

He watched it for a moment, then pushed two fingers inside you, scooping his own release and pushing it back in.

“Not yet,” he said calmly. “You’re not empty until I say so.”

He replaced the plug with something even thicker — his cock. He slid in slowly, filling you again in one long, smooth thrust until he was buried to the hilt.

You moaned softly.

He stayed perfectly still inside you.

“No moving,” he ordered. “No clenching. No trying to cum.”

He leaned down, chest against yours, and simply held himself deep inside your cum-filled cunt.

For long minutes, he didn’t thrust.

He just stayed there, letting you feel every inch of him, every throb, every drop of his previous load mixing with the new warmth of his cock.

“You’re going to stay like this for a while,” he whispered. “Full. Plugged by my cock. Denied.”

His hand slid up to your throat again, resting there possessively.

“Every time you get close… I stop.

Every time you whimper too loudly… I pull out and make you wait longer.”

He gave one single, slow grind of his hips — just enough to make you gasp.

“And if you’re very, very good and stay silent and desperate for me… maybe later today I’ll pull out and fill you with one more load.”

He kissed your blindfolded forehead almost tenderly.

“But until then… you’re just my warm, denied little cumslut.”

He stayed buried deep inside you, completely still again.

The long, slow torture of the second day had begun.

She had read it over a half a dozen times since receiving it. Her eyes focused heavily on the detailed and clear description of what was to come, She found herself constantly going back, pulling it out and reading it with uninterrupted focus. Each read through brought a shock that bristled her skin. A dread that settled in her stomach, mixing and combining with a heavy excitement that made her throb with a constant heat flushing across her skin.

For months she had existed in the safe bubble of one on one scenes. Finding herself able to let go and enjoy her every desire with a partner that seemed to understand her at the deepest root of her nature. He brought much needed structure, control and freedom to a life that had been so overrun and rife with responsibility. He was the outlet for passion and the one place she found herself able to go without judgment. Now she had been made aware it was graduation day.

He was setting her up for the next big step, taking her from direct training. This next lesson, terrifying and unknown, dragging her from the safe, private walls of her secret life with him and throwing her into the light. Putting her on display for those in his life. Mentally, she had been preparing herself, but it was pointless. No amount of focus, no form of meditation, none of her go to distractions, or usual tricks worked. Her heart was palpitating, increasing pace with every passing thought of what was to come and she could never find a way to fully settle it.

For this next scene, she was to be laid bare. Not just for him as she loved to be, but for others. The thought alone made her feel so exposed, so vulnerable and riddled with fear. Beneath it all, she also found a sharp sense of pride. She had always been self conscious about herself, yet he found her so attractive, so beautiful he deemed her worthy of showing off. As if not doing so was a crime, that she should be shown off to the world. She felt powerful, so confidently sexy as the growing need to be seen overcame those fears each passing moment the day drew closer.

As always, she received detailed instructions. He controlled her outfit for their meetings, slowly stripping away more and more as she left behind her professional, modest persona and replaced it with the ever skimpier clothing he loved. It started with more cleavage, then shorter shorts to reveal more thigh, less fabric in the shirts. Now she wondered why she bothered wearing anything at all as she left her apartment. Dawning the zip up hoodie and a pair of panties he demanded being the only thing she wears, the only thing separating herself from the world. The slight breeze that snaked down the opening of the sweater forcing her nipples erect without warning. Fully realizing, and honestly, hoping, that the entire building caught a glimpse of her well toned ass as she bent over to throw her bag in the backseat of her car.

The differences between her two lives, the transition from responsible adult, to on-call submissive slut always made her weak in the knees at this secret second life of hers. Purposely waiting until she was dressed appropriately to get gas, knowing a slight change in weather would expose her yet again. This woman loved that thought, the other one she was by day would recoil at it.

Pulling into his driveway always brought a tingle down her spine. She had come to equate the sight of his house with memories of experiences previously unknown. A dangerous trap. Every time she visited, she left with new memories, further increasing the excitement. Each step towards the door was drawing those memories out yet again as she unlocked the door to the glass covered storm room, where she started every night,

Within moments of passing through the doorway, she was already in position. He had trained it into her, until she sub-consciously found herself awaiting inspection. Down upon her knees, she unzips the sweater, freeing her chest, looking down and as always, thinking of what she would change about them. Looking around, the entryway always worried and excited her. Glass surrounds it, she could just see over the bottom walls when kneeling. Knowing that if anyone was to walk up, she would be there, as they looked down on her as she was, displayed and trained not to move until he gave permission.

She caught her breath as he opened the door stepping into the space, eyes tracing her from head to toe. That smile whenever he saw her, it screams good girl, it's a sign that he approves of her positioning, it was the kind of validation she began to crave from him, even if not said out loud, it began the familiar rush through her. Already feeling the swelling in her gut that would have her wet before he crossed the room.

His eyes never left her as he moved towards her with that confident stride she found so intimidating, no matter how often she had watched him approach. He always seemed to move effortlessly, unlike her walk riddled with doubt and anxiety, and his eyes always seemed to tear into her, to go through her with a cold appraisal. From his gaze alone she had begun to feel the goosebumps rise on her skin, her senses heightening to a point she swore she felt them each individually.

Standing before her, towering above her small frame, kneeling and wanting already. She whimpers, staring at the floor, she knows better than to look up into his eyes directly without permission. Receiving approval, she looks up, doing her best to give her puppy dog eyes, the ones she uses when she wants something, pointing to his pants.

“Five minutes”

He sighed, almost bothered by the request. She had come to love that, the way he had treated her almost dismissively when she wanted something. She knew it was probably unhealthy, but in her day-to-day life she’s always in charge, always listened to. Here she’s none of that, she barely registers as a person and it drives her wild.

Ecstatic she reaches towards his zipper, running her hands up his leg, her eyes landing on the bulge in his pants. God she wonders why that sight drives her wild, jeans, sweatpants, hard or soft, she’s always loved seeing the bulge in a man's pants. Running her left hand over to grasp and feel him, while her other grabs and pulls down his zipper. Listening to the sound, her eyes widening as she frees her prize.

She loves the look of his cock, the shape of it, the dark colour of his tan skin, the veins that bulged out, showing the fierce and aggressive nature of him. Even the shape of his head seemed perfect to her as she hungrily lowered her mouth to it. Devouring and hoping to hear a faint moan or something that affirms her skills are of standards now. This has become part of her routine. She loves to to consume him down the moment he stands in front of her. She loves feeling it grow, marveling at how much the size changes, how hard it becomes as she swirls it around with her tongue. How quickly it reaches the back of her throat and makes her eyes water before he’s reached a state of full arousal.

She’s been on a mission to learn how to deep throat. It has been... a struggle. It feels like he tears her apart and leaves it sore for days after, even when he’s not trying. Every time she meets him, she practices, waiting for the day she can offer herself to him unrestricted. To feel him go wild, undeterred by concern, knowing she can take it. Every once and a while ducking as she watched another car pass by on the street, reminding her that she is still in the storm room. Stirring more as she wondered if anyone could see them both. Always impressed by how little the thought seemed to bother him, as if he expected the world to see him in control, pleasured with no regard to common decency.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice the five minutes had passed until she felt him grasp her hair and pull her upwards, demanding she rises to her feet. A deep inhale as her airway clears, she watches the saliva that connected her to him, break and come to a rest, stringing out from her lips and landing on her chest. Followed by the string of excitement she had become accustomed to leaving on his floor in the entryway, slick, sticky against her thighs. She swears at some point, even feeling his cock fill her mouth had become a way to derive pleasure in itself.

Leading her through the doorway, into the main entrance and straight to the dark, wood, table centered in the living room. He laid her down, the cool firm feel of the wood imbues the awareness of what she was doing. Bringing back the flashes of his words, explaining her role in tonight's "performance". Making her squirm and wish she could disappear into the grains and hide herself away. Instead, he worked with the same efficiency he always had. Binding her arms to her side, locking her in place. Feeling herself being slid into position, her body being dragged until her head dangled off the edge, turning the world upside down. The blood rushing to her brain, feeling each beat of her heart pumping blood to both ends. The rhythmic pulse that seemed to flood towards her clit and her brain all at once. She was positioned long before she could overthink.

Locking her into place, he moves to her legs next. Pinning them flat, spread to the corners of the table, just wide enough to make sure she was open to all and vulnerable, exposed, just as he forewarned. The guests hadn't arrived yet but the shame and embarrassment of it all was leaving a clear sign. Already slick, her arousal was clearly visible. The shame was literally dripping out of her now.

Then the senses came next. The blindfold slipped over, the odd angle of her head allowing light in from just under the nose. Blinding her if she tried to look down as it focused the beam against the dark contrast. Next the headphones. He loved these. She has become obsessed with it herself. Having basic sense taken away had become another thing that made her insane. No sight, no sound, no ability to move or touch, she was unaware of the world around her and screaming internally that she wished there was more to take. The loss of them always stretched and melted away her sense of time. Seconds turning into minutes, the fabric of the blindfold moving against her skin sent vibrations through her skull that sounded like a roar through the headphones only to be drowned out by the white noise that would be on a loop.

Lastly, an ice cold sensation of metal. A large ring was placed in her mouth. Biting down she felt her teeth outmatched as he locked the leather strap around her head. Already she could feel the spit pooling at the back of her throat, drifting towards the roof of her mouth as her head hung upside down. Experience had taught her that these ring gags would quickly dry out her mouth or leave her suffocating in her own drool. Either gasping for liquid as her tongue struggled and dried or feeling as if she was drowning in her own spit. There never seemed to be an in between.

Her skin was hyper sensitive now. Other senses erased, touch to her body became acutely intense. First the weight, a heavy ceramic bowl. Cool to the touch. Probably full of chips, placed on her lower abdomen, just below the belly button at the dip in her waist. Instinctively the muscles in her core focused, tensed and twisted to keep it balanced. She knew her role. Each new plate and dish, forcing her to find uncomfortable balance, knowing that a single tremor through her body, one wrong move would send something clattering on the floor. Bringing punishment that she admittedly, craved just as much as she feared.

The change in the room was clear. Long before she was touched, her skin, her sense of touch now intently focused could feel the breeze enter as the door opened and invited the first guest in. In her current state, she could feel every step they made through the house as the vibration against the floorboard came straight up and through the table, sending each jolt directly into her pussy, permeating down to her pelvic bone. A warning that the show was starting. She could feel the steps and it gave her another tingle the carried through the hard wood. Feeling the sheer number of men now surrounding her, knowing they were gazing, taking in the sight of her before them. Her nipples reacted, she could feel them harden, pointing and screaming for them to look in their direction.

As the steps seemed to circle around to her left, she assumed they were now comfortable on the couch, it should be around the time that the game starts, at least she thinks. The white noise is disruptive to her thoughts and she’s struggling to stay focused on anything but the sensation now. She felt the first shift of weight, someone was reaching into a bowl, eating straight from her nude body. A small act, but enough to make her jump as the changing pressure shifted unpredictably. Another change, higher, near her ribs under her breast, another person grabbing from a different tray. She had to focus now, can’t let them distract and allow her to let anything slide off. The white noise, deafening was making focus hard.

Then a quick shock to her sense made her body jump, the cold, terrible cold and cool drops of condensation. A beer bottle, someone, some fiendish jerk had placed it right against her midriff, the droplets falling and pooling inter her belly button. Her reflective twitch almost sent something flying. Panic settles heavy in her chest, reacting, she overcorrected, barely managing to twist her body , hips dropping low to the left, chest arching and moving right, it took everything to keep things in place. Nothing had fallen, but it was apparent they would be working hard to force her failure.

Her body, loosing track of her mind under siege by the noise, had made itself laser focused on keeping things in place. Her ability to think of anything else, the complicated mix of white noise badgering her mind combined with the constant flow of blood to her head had erased any thoughts. Divulging into a living, breathing table that was the only thing she was. A creature of perfect balance. Still tense and focused even as the snacking slowed, her body stayed ready expecting it to be another ploy to catch her off balance.

Instead, the reality of the second act of her part in this show came quickly. Fingers grazed the folds of her lips, becoming glazed by her arousal, as they traced the length of her, around her thigh and circling back again. Rocketing her hips upwards as the sudden urge to force the fingers back down and into her makes her forget the rope that held her in place slamming her movement to a stop. The hand didn't notice, or more likely care about her struggle as it continued to tease and trace. Forcing a shudder from her body and a moan like noise that tried to escape her mouth, hampered by the steel ring that had actively drying out her tongue and pooling saliva between her gums. A fact she hadn’t noticed until now, only becoming aware as the now dry metal peeled from her lower lip, gravity stealing what little moisture it had left in it towards the roof of her mouth instead.

Another hand, this one large, calloused. Reached out and groped at her breast. Squeezing with an almost possessive kind of firmness. Rough and enjoyable. Another whimper. Another reminder that she couldn’t speak against the metal vibrating her teeth now that they had forced her vocal. Next came a slap, a third hand landed against the soft flesh of the upheld breast. Another jolt rings through her body followed by the crushing restraint of the rope stopping her from reacting. God, they came out from every angle.

Fourth hand landed a direct flick of her clit. That was too much, it sent a painful quiver throughout her body before the electric sensation of it tracing around and teasing her clit. Coming just close enough to steal her breath away. A fifth finger landed now. Not bothering with the tease, pushing past her lips and forcing itself deep within her. This combination was too much. Robbed of all sense and thought, hands continued to assault her body. She was struggling against it all, too many coming all at once, this much focus on her was an overwhelming form of pleasure that was going to break her. She was convulsing, shivering and trying to reach all of them at once. Her hips trying to force the hand within her deeper, her chest hoping to be grabbed harder, trying to mentally project the attention to her nipple it craved. Her left side is trying to provide more surface area to the hand that slapped away. All the while the jerk in the middle traced the sensitive side of her waist, circling up and down, teasing and tracing.

She was at the tipping point. It was all building to an earth shattering singular moment created from all the attention, the competing types of pleasure and impact, her body was welling with pleasure ready to explode outwards. Just then something warm and blunt hit her tongue. A cock, thick, heavy and insistent slipping through the ring and hitting the back of her throat.

That second was the end. She screamed as her throat was blocked. Feeling herself used so completely, by the throat, by the fingers that wouldn't bury themselves deep enough in her pussy. The never ending slaps and the massive rough hand still tugging at her breast. She violently exploded then and there. The shock rolled through her to the end of her fingertips before rolling back inwards to the pit of her stomach before exploding outwards yet again as they continued their punishment of her poor little body through it. Ensuring that the sensation would never stop, nothing more than a communal resource.

Another hand appeared out of nowhere, she had no idea how many had joined this parade of non stop attackers but the realization of that last hand's intent was a new factor that started another wave of pleasure. This new hand landed under the hand circling and teasing her clit, under the second hand inside her, curled upwards and hammering in and out, three hands now existed between her legs, fighting for her attention. This one collects the constant flow of creamy grool extruding from her at Niagara-esque volume and circling it around her ass, using her own arousal to lube and penetrate. Pushing every so slightly more before collecting and repeating the process, trying to push past the tight clenching barrier she was desperately clinging to.

Unfortunately she couldn’t continue to tense. The onslaught didn't allow it. She’s simultaneously trying to run from the anal assault while also trying to rock deeper into the main finger buried within her pussy that just won't reach where she demands. Her body is in a constant state of tension followed by deep relaxation. The sharp sting as it plunged into her without remorse, as she swears the finger now deep and suddenly in her ass makes contact through her walls with the one aggressively attacking her g-spot. The pressure released itself in that brief second. Poured over her like a damn that finally gave way to its crumbling foundation. The feeling drove her somehow upwards and downwards, left and right, sending her uncontrollable reaction in all and opposing directions, as the muscles disagreed on where to go. It was so violent she could feel the rope burning into her skin as even it now struggled to restrain her throws. The shaking caused herself to drive deeper into the cock in her throat. She had never felt a sense of complete and total fullness like this and it caused another heavy reaction that rocked her in a tidal wave she couldn’t handle.

She laid there as they rotated places. Setting up a circuit and swapping their positions out as they each lined up. The punishment began again. Feeling various parts empty as they swapped, only to quickly be filled and replaced by another. She got into a rhythm here. Lost in a fog and wondrous pain based pleasure derived from the constant overstimulation. She was static, an object and target of all of their desire, of which they had every intention to ruin, to break. The burning of her throat soothed only by each twitch and spasm of warm cum shot by the next friend's turn, before burning its way to her stomach as she was forced to swallow upside down.

They each cycled through until she was left limp and exhausted. Until she found herself shuddering and unable to breathe. The drool from her mouth, bruised and sore from the constant swapping of sizes and lengths. Diluted and mixed with how ever many loads she’s swallowed, pours down her face with it. leaving a pool on the floor beneath her head equal in size to the mess between her legs, now a river leaking down the sides of the table.

She had never felt so thoroughly used, so extraordinarily powerful in her entire life, never so thankful for the escape as she locked the feeling of the cold table against her back deep into a gallery of memories, filed away for the next time she pulled into his driveway. She knew she would be removing PIV and PIA from her group limits.

Youre completely locked in the perfect kneeling hogtie. Face down, ass up, thighs lashed tight to your belly, calves bound to your hamstrings, ankles spread to the bedposts so your holes are fully exposed and helpless. Your arms are crushed behind your back, forearms crossed and cinched so tight you cant twitch a finger. A thick fistful of your hair is tied to the headboard, stretching you taut.

I shove your soaked panties deep into your mouth, strap a wide gag over them, then slide the blindfold on and push the earplugs in. Total darkness and silence.

A thick anal plug slides into your ass and seats firmly. Then the egg vibrator goes into your dripping pussy and I crank it to the highest setting. To make it crueler I clamp your nipples and run the chain around your back. Any little squirm yanks them harder. Youre trapped. Every movement punishes your own tits.

I stand back and watch you struggle helplessly while the vibrator forces you toward orgasm after orgasm. When Im ready I yank it out, slam into your soaked pussy, and fuck you rough and deep. I cum all over your ass, shove the vibrator back in, and walk away, leaving you dripping and aching.

All day long I come back at random times. Sometimes I fuck your pussy, sometimes I pull the plug and take your ass, sometimes I just edge myself on you and leave without cumming. Every time I check on you, give you water, then tighten the ropes again and walk away.

By the end of the day youve lost count of how many times the vibrator ripped orgasms out of you. Your body is a wrecked, cum soaked mess. Thick ropes of my cum leak slowly from your pussy and ass, mixing with your own juices and dripping onto the sheets in long, sticky strands. Your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your nipples are swollen and aching from the clamps. Every muscle is burning from being held in that strict position for hours. Your mind is completely gone, floating in that deep, helpless subspace where nothing exists except the ropes, the toys, and the constant feeling of being used.

Youre no longer a person. Youre just my personal fucktoy, displayed and available exactly how I want you.

I stand at the foot of the bed for a long moment, admiring my work. Then I lean down close to your ear and whisper:

What do you think, toy? Youve been such a perfect little object all day… Should I invite a couple friends over to use you while youre still completely unable to move or speak? Let them take turns with your holes while you stay exactly like this, bound, gagged, blindfolded, and dripping?

This is a another part in the story of Mia and Sir.

Part 1

Sunlight poured in the room through the window. Its rays bathed my naked body in warmth, illuminating my slightly tan skin, as I lay on the bed on top of the covers.

It was finally my day off. Even though I am a “24/7 slave” to my Master, I do actually get a day off every now and again from my total power exchange relationship. Not weekly, but as my Master sees fit to grant me a day off. There were only two rules: 1) No clothes except my collar unless I went out and 2) No masturbating.

Oh god that feels so fucking good!

My body was starting to tense up as the vibrating dildo I was fucking my pussy with thrusted rhythmically in and out. Goosebumps prickled all across my bare skin. Yeah, I was breaking rule 2, but Master had gone out shopping and he had taken his headphones which meant he’d not be back for the next two hours at least. When he got in a store and put headphones on, he was in another world, and would casually stroll through each aisle slowly deciding what he wanted. Annoying sometimes, but in the case of today, very convenient.

Fuck! Oh god I’m cumming!

I felt the intense release as my pussy started contracting repeatedly and strongly around the thick dildo inserted in me. The orgasm wave rushed over my body, my chest heaving as gasped for air during the climax. The pressure that had built up slowly subsided as the orgasm faded away. Laying in the warm sunlight, basking in the dopamine, I was incredibly content. Unfortunately, that would not last.

“Hello Mia” a quiet but firm voice from the doorway, causing me to gasp in the fear of having been caught.

My Master stood in the doorway with a stony expression. I sat up so fast my phone and the vibrator went tumbling off the bed. “You... You’re back so fast!” I was stumbling over my words, dazed from both the orgasm and the surprise of being caught.

“I forgot my card so I came back to get it. Unfortunately for you, it would seem.”

I frantically spoke, “I’m so sorry Sir I know I broke rule 2 I was just so turned on and needed to...”

“Quiet, bitch.” he barked, “I didn’t ask for excuses.”

I shut my mouth immediately. I was in trouble

“Kiss the floor.”

I lept off the bed and dropped into position, a specific position from the Restrained Elegance slavegirl lexicon, on the floor. On my knees, face down on the floor, hands extended out as far as they could go. This was not just a position of submission, this was a plea for mercy. I trembled as I contemplated my fate. I could hear him dragging a chair from the dining room into the bedroom.

“Stand at attention!”

I jumped to my feet, back straight, arms pinned to my sides, legs together, eyes straight forward. I could see the dining room chair in the middle of the room, a traditional-style chair with a straight back and no arm rests, and I knew that’s where I’d be punished today. Sir had a number of lengths of rope. He was very adept at rope bondage. My pussy twinged at simultaneous dread and excitement. Master got to work.

I fucking love rope bondage. The feeling of being tightly cinched into any position with the unyielding jute rope, digging into my skin. He quickly tied my breasts in a standard chest harness, then moved to my arms. Rather than a box tie, which was a favorite of his, the tied my arms behind my back, elbows pulled together and bound tightly, in a strappado tie. He finished with a basic crotch rope, two ropes rubbing the sides of my clit and going back wedgie-style between my ass cheeks. I was still super wet in my pussy due to the orgasm I had just had, but all these sensations were kicking the natural lubricant production into overdrive.

“Sit down Mia”

I moved stiffly over to the chair and sat. He positioned me such that my bound arms were going over the back of the chair. That alone kept me fairly restrained because of how I was tied on my arms. That wasn’t all the restraint though. He quickly tied each ankle to the chair leg supports, lifting my feet off the ground and forcing them backwards. That naturally forced my legs apart. I felt the all too familiar embarrassment starting to rise in my face as I knew I must’ve looked like a contorted whore on that chair, unable to even close my legs, pussy on full display.

At least this is semi comfortable.

That was short lived, however, as Sir attached a rope to my bound wrists and looped it over a ring on the ceiling, then he pulled, slowly lifting my bound arms behind my back. The more torturous aspect of strappado, forcing my body forward so as to not dislocate my shoulders. My tits hung down as my body was leaning forward due to the position. I had a lot of trust in Master, he knew what he was doing and could do it safely, even painful positions like this one. My shoulders were tight but he tied it off in a position that I knew I could hold for quite a while before I needed to get out.

This was always the nerve wracking part, when I was put into difficult or painful positions. I always had my safe word and gestures, so he could get me out quickly if I needed to. I’ve only ever had to use them twice, and both were just due to my body giving out before my mind wanted to. Master freed me so quickly and intently, then cared for me gently afterwards, I completely trusted him for when I needed to. This is why I could submit so completely to him. Trust.

Well now that I was well and truly “trussed” up (get it? lol.) he walked over to the toy box. He pulled out both my best friend and my worst enemy: the Hitachi Magic Wand and the weighted clover nipple clamps. I wimpered, knowing I was in for it with those things. He moved back to me and positioned the wand in place right on my clit, lying on the chair. He turned it on and I involuntarily jolted at the intensity of the vibration, even on it’s lower setting. It felt fucking amazing. Unfortunately, that was the moment Sir chose to put the first clamp on my right nipple.

“Ow, fuck!” I said without thinking.

“That’s not what you say bitch.” he scolded, “What do you say?”

“...Thank you for clamping my nipples sir.” I muttered, pouting.

“Let’s try that one more time.” he said, attaching the second clamp to my left nipple.

“Thank you for clamping my nipples sir!” I said slightly more loudly and with an attempt at more submission, but it was hard when I was in pain.

“Much better, slut.” he said approvingly.

He adjusted the vibrator, shoving it up closer against my clit and suddenly I was fighting conflicting feelings as I had the pain from the nipple clamps at the same time as the intense pleasure of the wand. I’ve noticed the longer I’ve been with Sir, that he’s been methodically training me to take more and more pain. He always pairs the pain with pleasure, however, so I feel like I’m kind of being “Pavlovian-d” into being aroused by pain... It’s kind of hot.

*SLAP*

I gasped and recoiled as Sir’s heavy handed slap landed on my face. My cheek burned from the hit. My chin quivered a little as I tried to regain my composure, but he slapped me again, and I felt a tear force its way out and roll down my hot cheek. It hurt and I felt like crying, but at the same time I was so fucking turned on. I could feel myself rapidly approaching orgasm.

“Please sir may I cum?” I asked with a quavering voice.

“No.” he said curtly.

I whimpered. I hated when he did this. I had to attempt to hold back an orgasm that was building in me whether I wanted it to or not. It was so damn hard to not cum when you have one being forced out of you. I tried using every ounce of my internal strength to hold off the orgasm.

“Please sir! Please may I cum? I can’t hold it Sir!” I plead.

He just stared at me with that stony expression that I knew meant no again. I was moaning and gasping as I struggled in my tight restraints, trying my best not to cum. I was on the brink. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold it back.

Suddenly the vibrator was removed. Fuck! I was just shy of the peak! I know I wasn’t supposed to cum but I desperately wanted to, no, I fucking needed to cum. But I couldn’t get myself to that point of no return, not when the vibrator has been taking away.

“Please! Please Sir! Please don’t stop Sir I need to cum so bad!” I nearly sobbed as I could feel the lost orgasm fading slowly.

“You want to cum, slut?” he asked surprisingly gently, “Okay I’ll put the vibrator back.”

“Thank you Sir! Oh thank you Sir!” I breathed as he put the wand back in its place.

I could feel the pressure building again, more quickly this time. I was breathing heavily, my chest heaving, each breath making the clamps swing a little which was terrible yet amazing torment for my poor nipples, contributing heavily to the rise in my arousal. I could feel myself getting close again!

“Thank you for this Sir! May I cum please Sir?” I said quickly

Sir looked me dead in the eyes and pulled the vibrator away again at the worst possible moment.

“No Sir pleeeeaaaase!!!” sobs wracked my throat.

I realized what he was doing. He was edging me. It was almost worse torture than the clamps. Getting me right to the brink before taking it away and letting me wallow in the lost orgasm. I fucking hated edging, it was cruel, and it drove me mad desperately trying to catch what was kept out of reach. It was basically an adult form of keep-away, and it was even more infuriating because of what was being kept away.

As I sobbed from the pain of the clamps and the frustration of the deprived orgasms, Sir shoved a red ball gag into my mouth, strapping it tight, muffling my sobs. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t, my emotions were overwhelmed by the stimulation and denial, so I just sobbed into my gag, drool flowing freely down the gag and onto the chair between my legs. He unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, pulling out his cock to stroke while he tortured me, getting off on my anguish.

Sir continued with the same pattern of torment. I don’t know how long he edged me, how many times I pleaded to be able to cum before he took it away from me again. Sobs wracked my body, tears making my vision blurry. Despite the tears, I could see myself in one of Sir’s mirrors, I looked pathetic. Contorted on this chair, drool mixed with snot hanging from my nose and gagged mouth dangling there humiliatingly, clamps swinging on my tits as I cried. I was well and truly broken, a slut with no worth, snot hanging from my nose, drool all over everything. All the while he pumped his hard cock.

“Mm ssoh sowwy, Surr, Mm wohn’ dihsoh-bey uh-gen!” I sobbed through the gag, asking for forgiveness and promising to not disobey again.

Sir looked at me with piercing eyes. “I know you won’t,” he said, “but unfortunately for you, you’ve already done your cumming earlier today. So I’m going to keep edging you until I’ve had my turn, and only then will I stop.” He wiped the snot and drool hanging off my gag all over my face, an absolute mess, and then slapped me before he continued.

He edged me for what felt like an eternity, my mind numb, my face disgusting, my breaths quick from the sobs. Sir started pumping his cock faster, grunting. He was close, I could tell. Finally he tossed the wand on the floor and grabbed me by the throat, squeezing hard, and blasted his hot cum all over my face and body, getting in my eye and all over my gagged mouth. I was covered in his seed, restrained tightly to the chair and gasping for breath as he let go of my throat. He rubbed his cock all over my face to mix his cum in with my snot and drool, getting it in my hair. All I could smell was that bleach-like scent of his semen.

“You had only two rules today. I’ll be adding more for future days off because of this. For now, I’ll leave you to think about your choices.”

With that, he clipped another weight onto each clamp and I wailed through the gag in pain as he walked away. My nipples were being painfully stretched, my pussy throbbing, my face disgusting, my body aching from the punishing position and pain inflicted on me over the last who-knows-how-long. As he went out of sight my sobs continued, echoing in the quiet house, a testament to my punishment.

I wouldn’t ever break that rule again.

I had been chatting with him for months. Dark, filthy messages where I confessed my deepest fantasy: to be taken. Not asked. Not seduced. Kidnapped. Used like I was nothing but a toy for his pleasure. He always ended with the same warning: “Be careful what you wish for, little girl. Once I have you, there’s no safe word that will save you from what I want.”

I thought it was just talk.

Last night, I was walking home from the bar, a little tipsy, heels clicking on the quiet sidewalk. Headphones in, scrolling through our last conversation where I’d begged him to make it real someday. I never heard the van.

A strong arm wrapped around my waist from behind, a gloved hand clamping over my mouth before I could scream. My phone hit the ground. I thrashed hard, heart slamming in my chest, but he was so much bigger. He lifted me off my feet like I weighed nothing and shoved me into the back of the van.

“Shhh, princess. You’re mine now,” he growled against my ear, his voice exactly like in the voice notes that made me soak my panties every time.

I tried to fight. Really tried. Nails scratching, legs kicking, muffled screams into his palm. He pinned me face-down on the rough carpet, zip-ties my wrists behind my back so tight it hurt, then did the same to my ankles. A thick black cloth hood went over my head, plunging me into darkness. The engine roared and we were moving.

The drive felt endless. Every bump made my bound body slide. I could hear him breathing, calm and controlled while I whimpered and begged through the hood. “Please… let me go… this isn’t funny anymore…”

He just laughed low. “You wanted the fantasy, slut. Now you’re living it.”

When the van finally stopped, he dragged me out like a piece of meat. Cold night air hit my skin as he carried me inside somewhere a house? A basement? I couldn’t tell. He threw me onto a mattress. The hood came off and I blinked in the dim red light.

He was masked, tall, dressed in black. His eyes were hungry.

I was still in my short dress, now hiked up around my hips. He didn’t waste time. Ropes replaced the zip-ties thick, coarse hemp that bit into my wrists and ankles as he spread me wide on the bed in a tight hogtie. My back arched painfully, tits pushed out, pussy completely exposed.

“Look at you,” he murmured, running a rough hand up my thigh. “So young. So fucking wet already. Your body knows what your mind is scared of.”

I shook my head, tears pricking my eyes even as my clit throbbed. “No… please… I changed my mind…”

He slapped my face not hard enough to bruise, but enough to sting. “Too late.”

He ripped my panties off and shoved them into my mouth, then wrapped duct tape around my head to gag me properly. Two thick fingers plunged into my dripping cunt without warning, curling hard against my g-spot while his thumb ground on my clit. I screamed into the gag, hips bucking involuntarily.

He finger-fucked me brutally until my legs shook, bringing me right to the edge… then stopped. Over and over. Edging me until I was sobbing and humping the air like a desperate whore.

When he finally pulled his cock out thick, veined, already leaking he didn’t ask. He just slammed into me in one brutal thrust, stretching me wide. The ropes creaked as he fucked me hard, one hand around my throat, the other pinching my nipples until I cried.

“You’re not a person anymore,” he growled between thrusts. “You’re my kidnapped little fucktoy. I’m going to use every hole until you break.”

He flipped me, still bound, and took my ass next rough, no mercy, spitting on his cock for the only lube. The pain mixed with pleasure until I came so hard I saw stars, squirting around him while he laughed and called me his pathetic, dripping slut.

He used me for hours. Came deep inside my pussy, then my throat, then made me clean his cock while still tied. When he finally untied my legs (but left my wrists bound), he chained a heavy collar around my neck and locked it to the headboard.

“Welcome home, babygirl,” he whispered, stroking my tear-streaked cheek as I lay there trembling and leaking his cum. “This is just night one. You’re never going back to your old life.”

And deep down… even through the fear… I knew I didn’t want to.